


Draconicus

by Candid Quills (Nataruma), Nataruma



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Anal Sex, Assassination, Assassination Attempt(s), Assassination Plot(s), BDSM, Biting, Coercion, Creampie, Dragon Penis, Dragon Shapeshifters, Dragons, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasy, High Fantasy, Intrigue, Kidnapping, Kinky sex, Knotting, Light BDSM, M/M, Magic, Magic-Users, Male-Only World, Masturbation, Mating Bond, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Original Universe, Past Sexual Abuse, Political Alliances, Romance, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Coercion, Sexual Slavery, Sexual Violence, Shapeshifting, Size Difference, Size Kink, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-08-06 21:15:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16395242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nataruma/pseuds/Candid%20Quills, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nataruma/pseuds/Nataruma
Summary: A young man wakes up naked, dazed and confused in unfamiliar and inhospitable surroundings, unable to recall a single detail pertaining to his identity. He stumbles blindly through a series of events that reveal to him more than just the identity he had unwittingly lost, but also the wealth offered to him by the new life he is destined to now live. Rivalries form, romance blossoms, and enlightenment follows in every step he takes as he continues upon his new path; the path of a juvenile dragon.





	1. A Sacrificial Gift

Between worlds, in a vast black emptiness, two points of light float aimlessly towards one another. One is a bright sparkling ball of gold, the other is a small and wan star, surrounded by a pale mist. As rare and unlikely as this occurrence is, it is not entirely unprecedented. Though unaware of each other in a conscious sense, the balls of light seem to attract the closer they come to one another. The two lights flicker as they meet, swirling around one another, colliding briefly to send sparks and mist into the void, before they separate once again and end up slipping into different pockets of time.

☙✿❧

The memories played erratically like flashes of film, accompanied by a disjointed soundtrack, grainy and faded around the edges and muffled by a thoroughly muddied recollection respectively. The screeching and burning of rubber. Feelings of fear and panic. The shattering of glass, metal and bone. Pain. All these interconnected images swirled around in a grey soup of subconscious thought while he tried to anchor himself. There was more, but these memories were different, they felt foreign, superimposed upon the scene of a horrific accident.

Golden lights. Gleaming scales. Joy, happiness, then a deep anguished sorrow. The golden lights dimmed. The flashing eyes that were vaguely familiar in this unknown memory closed for one last time. An overwhelming and suffocating sadness took hold of the grey mass of subconscious mist, then returned once again to the rapidly fading scenes of an accident. Though both sets of memories revealed themselves to his subconscious in sporadic fashion, he was at once unaware of them when his eyes finally opened.

A whisper lingered in his mind, spoken softly in a hushed voice, as if someone was reluctant to startle him. _Nireth. Wake up, love._

Nireth? He thought, blinking his eyes slowly in dim surroundings. Who is Nireth? He mused further, a small frown forming a wrinkle between his dust-peppered eyebrows. Is that me? His confusion and questions only seemed to increase thereafter. Where am I? He blinked in an attempt to clear his blurred vision, coughing as a result of a parched throat and dry mouth. He felt weak, but managed to gingerly move his limbs so that he could push himself up off the ground. A film of grey dust fell off his skin, but it had left him powdered grey from head to toe, concealing the true colour of his body beneath.

Bringing his hands in front of his gaze as he sat on his shins and knees, the young man with the golden eyes stared in seeming fascination at the emaciated bony digits that were his fingers, dismayed by the exaggerated appearance of his own swollen knuckles. No wonder he felt so weak, but why was he so thin? Where was this place? What manner of dust had he been covered in? What was his name, even? Squeezing his eyes closed once more, the young man attempted to reach into the grey mist of his shattered memories, but could retrieve only a handful of intangible thoughts.

He couldn’t force the mist to give up anything more than the whisper of a word. Ros-Ni-Reth. It shone and flickered briefly in his mind like a sparkler that was about to die. Ros-Ni-Reth? It sounded familiar, and yet not. It didn’t feel quite right, but it felt almost justifiable for him to assume that was his name. How was it that he had completely lost all recollection of who he might have been? What on earth happened? Who was he? Of course, there were no immediate answers, all he could do was to struggle with the more pressing concern of attempting to rise to his feet.

Wherever he was, the place was dark, not cold per se, but not comfortable either. His dust-covered and emaciated body shuddered, then growled angrily at him. That is to say, his empty stomach specifically complained at him like a vicious beast, paired with his parched throat, it was clear that he had not eaten or had a drink in quite a considerable amount of time. By choice, or from some other cause? He didn’t know. The ground was hard and uncomfortable, and several little sharp things poked against his thighs and feet, encouraging him to get up with more haste.

When he finally managed to stand, with both legs shaking from weakness, his head felt dangerously light and made him reel and lean heavily against the nearest vertical surface. Without the help of the smooth cavern wall, he would once again have collapsed into the pile of bones he was lying in before. When the lightheadedness passed, Nireth scanned the little cavern with his eyes, the only colourful part of him, everything else was rendered ashen grey by the layer of dust that clung to him.

Looking at his hands and limbs more closely, Nireth attempted to move the dust on them with shivering fingers, stumbling over another discovery when a row of shining golden claws extended out of the delicate tips of his fingers. He stared at them in wonder, captivated for a time, somehow sensing that this might not have always been the way his fingers looked. Why would he be surprised by a set of claws if they were always a part of him? But then again, something seemed to be off about this detail as well. It didn’t make sense. Just like the ill-fitting and yet familiar name.

There was time to question this later, maybe, assuming he could move his weakened limbs enough to search for food or water. Shaking off the grander philosophical enigma of his existence, Nireth examined the dust covering himself again and soon realised that what he thought was dust was in fact fine powdered ash, like the sort of thing one could expect to find in a fireplace. A cursory glance around the cavern revealed no fire source, but perhaps it had long since burned out.

The sharp bits and pieces that had dug into his sensitive flesh were loose pebbles, rocks and a pile of bone chips. The latter came from a larger skeleton of something rather intimidating when compared to Nireth’s diminutive size. His eyes widened and he felt a chill trickling down his spine when he caught sight of the dead beast’s pointed skull, displaying a row of sizeable and sharp predator’s teeth. He didn’t know what it had been when it was alive, but he understood that it was a meat eater of some sort, about the length of three of him if he lay end-to end on the ground.

What if this cavern was some kind of beast’s lair? Alarm quickened his pulse almost immediately. This one might have been dead long enough to become nothing more than bleached bone, but if there were others like it nearby then his goose would be cooked. That more than anything else prompted him to attempt leaving the cavern, though it was tough going at first. It wasn’t just the difficulty of weakness, there was some sort of general oppressive pressure that seemed to be weighing down on him from some mysterious source, but mere observation revealed nothing discernible by eye.

At least there was light. It flooded in from several gaps and holes in the cavern’s ceiling, illuminating the way for him and revealing that it was only a short path from the inside of the cavern to reach the outside. He had two mishaps along the way, falling to his knees and scraping them bloody. The painful impact jostled his limbs and the little wrinkled organs that hung between his legs, making everything ache and bringing another fact to light in his muddled brain. He was naked. A part of him knew that this was unusual under the current circumstances, but he couldn’t explain why.

There was no sign of clothing in the cave at all, nor a shred of it on his person. What could possibly have befallen him that he would be in this state? There was no forthcoming answer, nor would there be for quite some time, so Nireth dragged himself back up to his feet and found some wellspring of strength from deep inside himself that spurred him on. He couldn’t feed himself with answers, and he was beyond hungry.

Finally he stepped out of the cavern and into the bottom of a wide yawning canyon. The snaking and winding walls that boxed Nireth in rose to an intimidating height on either side, decorated by various striations that criss-crossed horizontally along their surface. Several caverns opened up like yawning mouths both ahead and behind him, but Nireth’s gaze and interest were focused entirely on a naturally-formed stairway that looked like it had spilled down the side of the canyon. It was a way out. Panting from his efforts, Nireth made his way up the canyon wall, noting in passing that everything around him seemed to be painted in an ashen grey palette.

When he finally reached the plateau atop the canyon his eyes drank in the bleak sight all around, of cracked and parched grey earth, choked and dessicated weeds, and sinister scattered bone mounds. The wind whistled past, constantly lifting the powdery ash and sand mixture into the air, swirling it around the bone mounds, then casting it back into the fissures of the thirsty ground. This didn’t look like a place that would have water, let alone anything edible. There were no trees, no grasses or plants, not even the whisper of a single living thing.

Nireth felt that oppressive pressure from before weighing down on his shoulders even more, but he refused to collapse and lose hope just yet. He forced himself to grit his teeth and plant one foot in front of the other, shambling his way across the cracked ground, careful not to trip over the solidified fissures as he made his way forward. Even the sky was drab, though cloudless it was the same monotone grey, and the sun—The sun? Nireth squinted at the ball of flickering light suspended above. Was it just his imagination or did it look more like a ball of burning pitch than a sun?

His vision wavered and he nearly toppled over. One thing at a time. At least there was light to guide his way, even if it was something strange. Strange? Why would it be strange? Nireth frowned as he questioned himself and his sparse knowledge, plodding onward resolutely. A sun and this thing in the sky, weren’t they one and the same? Wait, what was a sun anyway? His head hurt, his mouth was sore, his belly ached, these other concerns began to worry him in far greater measure, so he soon forgot about the weird feelings he experienced about the light source of this dry and dead place.

It seemed like hours passed while he wandered aimlessly in the desolate Parched Reaches, and even though he didn’t know its name at the time, he would have thought it a very fitting one for this place. Not a drop of moisture to be seen anywhere, not even a mirage of it, but that was because there was no heat or moisture in the air either. Everything was drained of life and made into the same neutral tone of death. It made him shudder, even as he forced the depressive pressure on his mind back, he couldn’t help but feel like it was very apropos.

On one hand it was good that he wasn’t likely to run into something alive and vicious, but it was increasingly worrying at the same time. Surely there was someone else nearby, surely he wasn’t there alone, he had come from someplace, he must have, otherwise he simply just wouldn’t have existed. The bones he came across every now and again also told him that some manner of monstrous creatures had once existed here as well, so there must be some life somewhere.

Soon his convictions and his thoughts waned, his pace slowed, the fatigue in his limbs began to show in the way he would sway heavily from side to side as he walked. In the end he never saw the drop-off point where the plateau dipped into a gigantic crater of silt and ash. As a result of his misstep, he stumbled and lost his footing with a small yelp. Tumbling head-over-heels in the soft cascade of sand, Nireth struggled to slow his descent, but could do little more than helplessly endure the sliding tumble until he crashed into something that shattered from impact.

Wincing in pain and trying to recover from a severe dizzy spell, Nireth patted the ground around him to steady himself and blinked his eyes. He was now covered in sparkling dust, different from the sand and ash covering him underneath. It looked more like glitter than anything else. He tried to rub it off his arms and quickly realised that whatever the glitter was it nearly sandpapered his skin off. Another whimper of pain rose from him.

He was so ready to give up, to simply remain there and wait for starvation to deliver the last blow, but a noise just above him made him freeze and forget all these depressing thoughts. A loud huffed snort, followed by a warm gust of air, moved across Nireth’s ash-greyed hair, displacing some of the glitter and dust in it. He looked up with wide eyes and felt every inch of his body stiffen with fright.

Right in front of him was a beast’s large bony muzzle, lined with razor-sharp teeth the size of daggers, hanging out over a gigantic lower jaw. Its head alone was much bigger than he was, and the rest of the body was of such an unfathomable size that Nireth would have lost control of his bladder out of sheer terror if it wasn’t wrung dry already. What could he do other than cower and curl into a shivering little ball? He hoped beyond hope that the beast would not choose to crunch him down, though he would make for a rather miserable meal.

Yet even as he waited for the pain of sharp teeth to penetrate his flesh, the expected viciousness never came. Seconds dragged by into a full minute, and when Nireth remained very much alive and unharmed, he slowly began to uncurl and chanced a furtive look at the gigantic beast seated inches away from him.

At first glance Nireth saw it as a terrifying monster, but the more he looked at the beast’s pitiful state, the less fearful he felt. The beast’s serpentine head swayed from side to side continuously, its great big bulging eyes were starkly defined in their sunken eye sockets—closed for the moment. It lay with its legs and feet tucked beneath it, front paws folded over one another with crystalline claws extended, but these were badly chipped and rendered harmless. They were cracked and blackened around the broken edges.

The beast’s skin was mottled pink and white, as if burned by some sort of fire, and vast patches of it were flaking off. One of its horns had snapped off and lay between its front arms, glittering in the light shining down on them from the fire-orb suspended in the sky up above. The beast looked as thin and emaciated as Nireth, to the point that every spinal bone was starkly defined along its back and whip-like tail.

It sat in a pile of delicate crystal flakes, the very same material Nireth had unceremoniously crashed into with his fall. Curious, and no longer afraid, Nireth reached out to pick up one of these flakes to examine it. Almost immediately after he picked it up, the delicate scale crumbled into diamond dust. Scales. They were scales. They had come off the beast’s hide until it was as naked as an unprotected newborn. Understanding suddenly dawned in Nireth’s mind.

This beast, it would pose no threat to him nor would it move an inch; it was dying. The epiphany shocked him, and he immediately felt an overwhelming pain in his heart. Why he should feel anything for this creature was a mystery to him, and yet he did. The feeling only deepened when the beast’s head stopped swaying all of a sudden and it opened its eyes to regard Nireth with a pair of shockingly intelligent blue eyes.

Nireth could tell it understood everything he understood, and even exceeded his knowledge. Sorrow formed a lump in Nireth’s throat and made him ache. The eyes looking at him were so full of sadness, he could feel the weight of the beast’s mournful soul reaching out to his own. Without thought, Nireth shuffled forward and reached out his thin arms, enfolding the beast’s muzzle in a gentle embrace as he began to shed precious tears. He had few reserves to offer, but the droplets that came made channels in the dust on his face and hung off his delicate chin.

_‘Do not mourn for me, little golden brother. Best to conserve your strength in the Grave Flats.’_

The beast’s voice was a gentle deep rumble in Nireth’s mind, patiently doting, evidencing a calm sense of resignation to his fate. Nireth hugged the beast’s muzzle tighter, eking out a sob. The fact that it spoke to him only deepened his sorrowful sympathy.

“But it’s so sad,” Nireth croaked out loud.

The beast’s lips pulled back. In his current sorry state the monstrous smile on his face was devoid of all vim and vigour.

_‘Hush, hush, now. You’re parched and starved and can’t afford to squander your energies on my account. But you… Hm, yes... It seems you’ve decided not to fade after all, haven’t you? Little golden brother.’_

Nireth felt the warmth of a snort against his belly, then sat back on his legs so he could look once again into the brilliant blue of the beast’s eyes. His hands cupped the underside of its jaw still, maintaining contact with the only other living being he had come across since waking in this hellish place. To discover it was intelligent, but that it was dying at the same time, seemed too cruel a blow, but Nireth’s anguish was more for the sake of the depthless pain the beast was suffering from. The feeling of its sadness radiated off it like waves lapping at a beach.

_‘I’ll tell you what, little golden brother. What if I were to impart the last vestiges of my energy unto you? Hm? But if I do this you must hasten your way back to the gate and leave this realm behind you. This is no place for a dragon who wishes to live.’_

Dragon. Nireth’s golden eyes widened in vague recognition of the word. The beast was a dragon. So then, did that mean that he too was a dragon? He knew it to be the absolute truth when it came to the dying dragon before him, but the information seemed to be as ill-fitting as his name and his claws when it came to himself. Still, the way the dragon addressed him, Nireth felt as though it was the only logical conclusion he could draw, even though their appearances differed drastically as they were now.

“Why would you help me?” Nireth asked, genuinely perplexed. After all, he didn’t know this dragon, unless of course he did and had no recollection of it.

The dragon in front of him heaved a mournful sigh, then closed his eyes again.

_‘Because I wish to leave. The sooner I go, the sooner I can be at peace.’_

Nireth’s lips pursed together. It was very upsetting to him how their situations seemed to be so different. The dragon in front of him was desperately seeking a way to hasten his own end, while Nireth was desperately searching for a way to prolong his existence. Why did this dragon wish to die so badly? He really wanted to find out, however, it seemed like this question would have been bordering on insensitive to broach, so Nireth chose to ask another.

“What is this place?”

Looking past the area the dragon in front of him occupied, the crater around them was choked with the bleached bones of other dead dragons, more so than the Parched Reaches had been. Perhaps the reason for that was the softness of the sandy ash cushioning the bottom of the crater. For someone who wasted away to skin and bones and was waiting to die, the soft sand offered a comfortable final resting place before life faded entirely.

The dying dragon cocked his head to the side, making the bones in his neck crack slightly. Was the little golden brother making fun of him, perhaps? However, seeing the guileless ignorance in the little one’s bright eyes, the older dragon realised that his question was genuine and not mocking. Most peculiar. Perhaps this little one had wandered too long in the Grave Flats that his mind had been completely torn to pieces. It was known to happen to some, especially the young.

_‘These are the Grave Flats, we are in the Boneyard, to be precise. We come here to die, little golden brother. More reason you should leave as quickly as possible. This place, it’ll choke the life out of you and suck you dry.’_

Nireth shuddered at the ominous slant to the rumbling voice echoing in his mind. He didn’t doubt the information one bit. His own body was shrieking for a drop of water, more than enough evidence as to the veracity of the dying dragon’s words.

A graveyard, though? It made logical sense, especially with how dead everything appeared to be and with all of the bone piles Nireth had passed by on his quest for nourishment. But why would he have woken up in a graveyard? Unless, at some point, he had actively sought death, just like the dragon lying before him. Although it was likely, Nireth couldn’t summon up any memories to either confirm or deny it with any measure of certainty.

As much as wishing for death might have been the case before, Nireth rejected the thought presently, as vehemently as any living thing clinging to life might do. He didn’t want to die here, in this barren and empty place full of loneliness, sorrow and melancholy. Yet even though Nireth was more than tempted to accept this unexpected offer of aid, he was also reluctant. Guilt gnawed at him, coupled with depression and sadness, until he sat still beside the dying dragon.

_‘This won’t do, little golden brother. You must answer me. Yes, or no?’_

The dragon’s serene voice admonished Nireth gently. Without joy in his heart, the young man shifted again to be able to look into the dragon’s eyes once more. He didn’t want to die, the dragon had been right about that, but he also didn’t want to be the cause of this dragon’s death. Nireth hung his head and stared at his scuffed knees. His eyes ached with the need to cry, but he couldn’t squeeze even one more teardrop out.

“What’s your name?” he asked softly in the end.

The dying dragon churred in his throat, stretching his neck forward so he could stroke the side of his muzzle against Nireth’s body in a consoling gesture.

_‘My name is Ros-Vir-Fal, little golden brother, but you may call me Virfal.’_

“Virfal,” Nireth repeated. “I’m Ros-Ni-Reth.”

He spoke the name aloud, and while it had sounded foreign to him before, as soon as he decided to officially claim it as his own, he suddenly felt that it was more than right. It was his name, it was everything that he was and more. It filled him with warmth to finally be certain of at least one puzzle piece regarding his identity.

_‘Well met, little Nireth. Would that our meeting could have been under better circumstances, but I caution you that you mustn’t delay any further. I grow weaker. You must decide now.’_

Nireth lowered his gaze once more, but this time he was as resigned to his new acquaintance’s death as Virfal seemed to be. The small young man nodded slowly, accepting the offered boon, even though he was uncertain about how to receive Virfal’s precious gift. Virfal answered the mystery for him with gentle instruction.

_‘Very good, little Nireth. Now stand up, close your eyes, and leave your mind open.’_

Following the older dragon’s instructions, Nireth winced and rose up onto his feet once more, borrowing Virfal’s neck for temporary support. Once he was standing, Nireth closed his eyes and stood in solemn silence, calming all other thoughts in his mind until it resembled a clear placid lake. A familiar sensation overcame him, almost as natural as breathing.

There had been no detailed instructions on how to leave his mind open or receive Virfal’s consciousness, and yet Nireth was struck with an unexpected bout of surety about how to do this. Nireth allowed his senses to go slack, losing himself in the undisturbed pool of his inner mind. The pool distorted, sucked down in the middle, as if a pressure descended from above and displaced the surface. It was a submissive state of mind, offering entry to another’s presence.

Gradually, like a warm glow slowly diffusing into a dark space, Nireth felt the presence of Virfal’s consciousness entering the sacred privacy of his mental pool. He was a bright blinding star when he entered, shooting down into the central dip of Nireth’s mind-pool, turning the black water into brilliant crystalline iridescence. Virfal’s aurora shone brighter and brighter, until it transcended beyond the limits of Nireth’s mind.

Nireth’s body jolted then froze in place, eyes luminous, mouth gaping and streaming with bright beams of light. Dust and glitter blasted off his skin, revealing the lustrous creaminess of its original hue in places, his formerly ashen hair fluttered in streaks of shining gold. He lifted off the ground, suspended in place by the threads of illumination that whirled around him with growing speed, filling out his starved limbs with vitality once again.

His transformation was truly stunning. From a sorry, filthy and bedraggled state, to a magnificent and resplendent appearance of gleaming golden grace. Even his thirst seemed slaked, and his hunger pangs were temporarily sated. Nireth couldn’t see the spectacle of his revived self, but he felt the immediate and profound effects of Virfal’s sacrificial gift. He was rejuvenated to the core, and no longer struggled beneath a caul of depressive thoughts.

_‘Haaaaah. Such a small thing you are, little Nireth, I almost didn’t fit. Hurry, now. Follow the guide light.’_

Virfal?! Nireth opened his eyes in shock at the voice still speaking to him in his mind, albeit in a more subdued and faint whisper. In front of him, Virfal’s body had disappeared. Nireth blinked owlishly at the pile of ash-covered bleached bones left behind in the wake of the dragon’s disappearance. A perfect whole skeleton lay before him in the spot Virfal had occupied, its great big toothy skull pressed to the sands of ash. One of the skeleton’s horns was snapped in half and lay between its bony front paws.

Nireth felt a fresh lump of emotion stick in his throat, but he was not allowed to tarry. The whispering voice in his head urged him to _‘hurry’_. Not wanting to squander this gracious and most valuable gift, Nireth sprang into motion, following a thread of prismatic light that was showing him the way forward. The streak of bright luminous colour was easy to see in the drab dullness of the Grave Flats, and with his renewed vigour Nireth was able to run in hot pursuit of it.

Before long, Nireth spotted the stony contours of the Grave Flats gate, and was shocked into a standstill by the sheer size of the monolithic construct, flickering in and out of view through the haze of airborne ash and dust. Like the rest of the Flats, it was grey and plain, but spanned several hundred feet in both width and length. The central aperture opened onto a platform overlooking a dark void, but in order to reach the platform he had to first pass through the barrier framed by the gate.

_‘Hurry!’_

Virfal’s voice was weakening, and with his fading mental influence Nireth felt his own limbs beginning to tire once more. There was no time for delay. Steeling himself against whatever lay beyond the portal, Nireth pulled his shoulders back, thrust his elfin chin up, and fixed his blazing golden gaze ahead. He stepped closer and closer, then raised a hand to touch the cool surface of the barrier. Spending only a brief moment to contemplate the strange watery sensation the barrier made against his palm, Nireth advanced, and with a resolute step, he passed through.


	2. Finding Home

As oppressive and bleak as the Grave Flats had been, the void beyond the barrier stunned Nireth with its spectacular sea of twinkling multi-coloured stars. At least they looked like stars, sparkling where they were suspended within the swirling umbral mist of this new and unknown dimension. Nireth lifted his hands, now clean and dust-free, and curled his fingers within the cool, coiling vapour of the atmosphere.

Surprisingly, though it felt like mist it was not wet, nor did it leave any trace on his creamy skin, but Nireth could see that there was some corporeal quality to the unknown element. Despite this fact, he couldn’t quantify nor explain the properties of this mist-like substance. It simply seemed to exist as a weightless and benign occurrence.

At a loss as to what the mist was made of, Nireth shifted his attention instead to the points of light dispersed within the void. Though they resembled stars, these little glittering sparkles were neither suns nor planets, but rather fixed points of light, burning brightly alone or in clusters here and there. They seemed to be dispersed as far as Nireth could see, way into the shifting darkness beyond.

Behind him, where the barrier spread out around the gated platform, the opacity increased slightly to a more translucent pearl grey. The entire barrier took the shape of a perfectly-formed sphere. Though Nireth could not quite see the external size of the realm in its entirety, he could tell that there was a curvature to the barrier containing it, and that the realm was hovering perfectly still within the pseudo-constellations surrounding it.

There was no vacuum, but there was some slight evidence of a gravitational force, seeing as his feet remained grounded upon the stone platform with only a marginal increase in buoyancy. Every element hung in the black space containing it as if it was purposely pinned there, all save for the swirling black mist that flowed between. There had to be some sort of force keeping him and these celestial bodies from sliding and colliding. Was it the mist’s doing, perhaps?

As startling as these new surroundings were for Nireth, he felt quite a bit more positive about them. Now that he was free of the Grave Flats, he no longer sensed any feelings of depression weighing down upon him, and suspected that the sensation was unique to the Flats. Despite knowing this, Nireth was still plagued with uncertainty; Where did he go from here?

Glancing out at the darkness with its pinpricks of light, Nireth knew that he couldn’t walk on the mist as he was. It may have offered some slight resistance when he poked at it, but it would swirl around his form and swallow him up if he dared step off the platform entirely. This fact revealed itself to him when he extended one leg beyond the platform, only to watch it get swallowed up entirely by shadow.

Startled, he quickly pulled his limb back out of the void and planted it upon the platform again with a scowl of worry wrinkling his brow. His leg was unharmed, but the mist had been so cold when it wrapped around him, he knew that he would freeze if he tried to traverse it again. Nireth began to pace back and forth at the edge of the platform in dismay, his arms folded across his chest.

_‘What’re you waiting for? Fly.’_

The soft whisper in his mind was like the brush of a mothwing on glass. Nireth’s eyes widened and he looked up, as if by raising his head he would see the spirit of Virfal before him, but of course this wasn’t the case. Fly? Nireth mused, his fine blond eyebrows gathering together to form a frown.

Within Nireth’s mind-pool, the brilliance of Virfal’s aurora had shrunk considerably, but he was still a manifest presence, sparkling at the bottom of the divot in the watery representation of Nireth’s mental perception. The dragon’s spirit sighed audibly, then thrust itself deeper into the pool and touched a network of nerves beneath the surface, lighting them up until they resembled luminous golden spiderwebs.

Nireth’s body froze, his eyes popped open in shock, then closed slowly as a feeling of intense heat suffused his body. There was an itch growing from within each one of his shoulder blades, that finally exploded outward when he used his mind to try and shove the annoying sensation out from beneath the skin. As he did so, a pair of glittering golden wings erupted from his back, extending and expanding in size until they dwarfed him.

There was no pain, only an overwhelming measure of heat that swarmed between his eyes and swirled throughout his body violently. Wherever this heat went, Nireth’s body changed. Limbs lengthened and grew scales. His delicate fingers, toes and claws became powerful paws, and the heat at the small of his back thrust outward and sparkled into a long and graceful whip-like tail.

Two beautiful horns branched their way out the sides of Nireth’s head, just past the area of his temples. The horns extended out then curved backwards into successively finer tines, the ends of which glowed and shimmered with magic energies. Nireth’s thick and long hair grew even longer and began to cascade down his extending serpentine neck like a mane. His face transformed into a petite scaled muzzle with an elegant pointed shape, almost resembling that of a golden arrowhead.

All told, the entire transformation took only a couple of **sparks** , but the end-result was stupefying. Flapping his membranous wings, Nireth shook his gleaming mane out, then shuddered from neck to tail-tip as a surge of magical energy rushed through his limbs. He began to glow, just a subtle sheen of light that was given off by his glittering scales.

_‘N… Fly… Gol… Broth… Urry!’_

Virfal’s voice was softer still, but the urgency in his interrupted words was even greater than before. Nireth stopped admiring his front paws in wonder, retracting his impressive claws back into their sheaths. Virfal’s knowledge had imparted valuable information yet again, especially when it came to this form, something Nireth had completely forgotten about. A dragon. He was a dragon. There could be no doubt, not now that he experienced it with his own mind.

The urgency in Virfal’s fading spirit voice spurred him on, encouraging Nireth to swiftly trot back towards the gate, then turn and stand at the ready, muscles coiling and tensing, poised before springing into action. He ran headlong towards the edge of the platform, then with an odd sinking feeling in his belly, launched himself off and spread his wings, flapping them once then twice.

Not only did he clear the platform, he sailed majestically into the dark void without any concerns about being attacked by the mist, flying into the thick atmosphere unscathed. The guide light Virfal had used to show him the way out of the Grave Flats now took the form of a tiny prismatic insect, almost like a bee, though it produced no noises. It lead the way and Nireth followed close behind so as not to lose sight of it amidst the colourful little sparkles they passed.

Colliding with the void-lights left him with a plethora of strange sensations. Each time a ‘star’ was displaced by his passage, it turned into a collection of sparkles or mist and swirled around him, warming his scales and filling his body with a tiny measure of power. Sometimes laughter would echo in his mind when this happened, other times mild grumbles and complaints, or sensations of curiosity.

With every successive encounter, Nireth’s mind worked furiously to try and explain the occurrences he experience, but he was as yet uncertain about what these lights really were. When he craned his long arched neck to look over his shoulder at where he had been, the sparkles and puffs of glittering ‘smoke’ would reform back into their original positions. Behind them, at some distance now, Nireth could see the giant sphere of the Grave Flats realm, glowing like a moon.

Looking back ahead, the little bee Nireth was following flickered slightly out of view. A chilling sense of trepidation froze his chest and made him struggled to flap his wings quicker, though it seemed to be more and more difficult to do the further away he got from the tickling touch of the void-lights. However, the more he travelled, the fewer lights he encountered, and while that made the guide bee easier to see, it brought with it other concerns.

Worrying over the lessening frequency of lights, Nireth wondered where the bee was leading him to. He could not ask it directly since it was merely a construct of Virfal’s consciousness, nor could Nireth coax anymore words out of Virfal’s fading spirit. The situation had become quite dire, and was only getting worse. Wherever they were going, Nireth could only hope that they would get there soon.

Unaware of exactly how many **turns** had passed since leaving the Grave Flats behind him, Nireth’s mounting concerns began to manifest. He was now all alone in the dark void with the little prismatic bee, there were no other lights and no larger pearlescent barrier shapes in the distance. Behind him, the realm he left and its surrounding constellations of lights had long disappeared from view. It was truly dark, but for the glow of his own scales and the shimmering sparkle of the bee in front of him.

The bee flickered again and Nireth swallowed the dryness he suddenly felt in his great big mouth. This was happening more and more now, and at times the bee would blink out of view entirely, chilling Nireth’s lungs. His stomach had begun to growl, only a little at first, but now it roared at him audibly. His wings felt heavy and were rapidly tiring, causing him no small amount of worry. Virfal’s aurora was but a small grain of wan light in Nireth’s mind-pool, no larger than a seed. It sputtered and crackled, fragile and close to being extinguished.

Apart from his growling stomach and the swishing noise his wings made with each tiring flap, there was absolute silence. His focus wavered and his eyesight blurred all of a sudden as Virfal’s aurora dimmed momentarily, then sputtered back into a wan presence. Virfal’s spirit was close to dissipating entirely and Nireth couldn’t hold onto it for much longer.

No, please no, Nireth thought desperately, clawing through the black mist to try and follow the flickering bee ahead of him. He didn’t know where it was leading him, without its guidance he would be truly lost in the emptiness around him. He could try to turn back, but if he did he knew that he would simply be returning to death, if he even made it that far.

With eyes widened by fear, Nireth desperately looked left, right, up and down, but he could see nothing. Panic rose like bile in his throat and threatened to choke him and overtake his flagging focus, but before his panic could reach hysterical levels, Nireth grabbed a hold of himself mentally and snorted out a collection of golden sparks through his nostrils. Just fly, just keep flying, you’ll get somewhere. He had to trust Virfal’s gift wouldn’t lead him astray.

As if presenting a reward for his desperate optimism, the black void spat out the barest glimmer of light ahead. Nireth made a snorted grumble-yelp in his throat, unable to contain the sudden flood of relief and joy that bubbled up his chest upon witnessing a fresh new field of void-lights coming into view in the distance. Not a moment too soon, either.

The bee guiding him shattered into hundreds of little shards of light and dispersed into the mist without a trace. Nireth gave a small noise of dismay, sensing the light of Virfal’s presence dimming almost to nothingness in his mind. With the energy gifted to him weakening, Nireth’s limbs grew thinner, the glow of his scales shrank back into his body, and a sudden crushing sensation of fatigue wrapping around his aching limbs.

A part of him knew that if he tired completely, he would once again shift back into his smaller form, and that form had no ability to withstand the voidal mist. Desperate once more, Nireth clawed his way to the nearest sparkling light, brushing into it for a small boost of energy, but it was so minute that it only made his scales glow for a spark. Onto the next, he thought urgently, flapping his wings, kicking with his hind paws, and whipping his tail back and forth.

Thus, he propelled himself forward at an agonizing pace, losing strength along the way, and kept to his path only by courtesy of the little lights that fed him the smallest morsels of energy each. One star became two, then three, then a cluster of five, more and more collisions followed, each one feeding Nireth a small measure of energy, until he witnessed the iridescent gleam of a barriered realm up ahead.

_‘Yes!’_

He didn’t even realise that his telepathetic voice exploded aloud with a shriek of delight, but by then his senses were severely compromised. His sight blurred frequently, his body was shaking from his exertions, and the mind-pool he had projected in his mind retracted completely into a grey mist once again. Virfal was gone now, he could only rely on his own power, and he fought viciously to hold on.

However, to his dismay, he could find no platform at the barrier of this realm, and no entry gate, no matter how far he flew in any direction around it. Through the hazy film of his weakening sight, Nireth could tell it was very different from the Grave Flats barrier. It was transparent, for one thing, resembling a soap bubble. The barrier shifted with a familiar liquid-like quality, and just beyond it Nireth could make out hundreds of points of firelight, as well as the shapes and shadows of landmasses and structures.

Nireth knew he didn’t have a hope of circling the entire circumference of the barrier, it was far too large for that, larger even than the Grave Flats barrier had been, with its own unique features. Several times Nireth flew in and out of one of the shimmering rings of glitter orbiting the barrier, feeling the continuously cascading sparkles tickle his scales, offering small boosts of power, but even with this he was going to lose consciousness soon.

If there was no entrance along the sides, perhaps above? Nireth pinned all his hopes on this one last consideration. Latching himself onto the outside of the barrier with shining golden claws, he climbed his way up the side, attempting to smash his head through in several areas with no amount of success. His progress was slow and getting even slower with every passing **flicker** , until he was blindly making his way up towards the apex of the barrier.

Without realising it, Nireth stumbled across an opening. The barrier was softer here, more flexible, almost like fabric stretched across a circular golden ring. The ring itself was inscribed with hundreds of runic symbols, spinning slowly in a single direction. More of these entrances were scattered along the upper latitudes of the barrier, but as exhausted as he was, Nireth didn’t notice them at all.

Spent of all borrowed power, Nireth collapsed onto his knees within the gate, his dragon form slowly dissipating from his body in a cloud of golden smoke. Once again he was a vulnerable little man, more than three times smaller than his more impressive dragon self. His body met the soft barrier beneath him, and suddenly the runes on the gate lit up, causing the ring itself to glow and spin a touch faster.

Nireth was so tired, his entire body quivered from the strain of his ordeal, he couldn’t even open his eyes anymore, he could only lie where he fell within the ring and desperately yearn for entry. There was nothing to be done, his atrophied muscles were as they had been in the Grave Flats, completely wrung out and weak. As for his mind, he could no longer hold onto his thoughts, or his consciousness.

However, Nireth’s wishes did not go ignored. Once the desire for entry jumped from Nireth’s mind to the gate, the runes on the ring surrounding him glowed brighter and the ring itself spun faster, to a dizzying degree. Within the span of a single spark, the soft barrier beneath Nireth disappeared completely with a whoosh, dropping his body into the realm below.

☙✿❧

Gotr-Bet-Nerr thrust his hips with a soft groan, filling his lover with the aching length of his pulsing cock. Beneath him Sif-Ni-Lir arched and cried out sweetly with pleasure, grasping Betnerr’s strong and muscular shoulders, his little gold claws digging harmlessly against his mate’s protective scales. Betnerr ground himself all the way into Nilir’s sweet tightness, burying his mouth in the crook of the smaller man’s neck to bite at the soft skin there with his sharp teeth.

Engrossed in their lovemaking, neither one of them took notice of the bright flare lighting up the night sky above them, nor the shadowy figure hurtling down towards their location at alarming speed. The hot springs were otherwise the same romantic and quiet backdrop they had always been, which was exactly why Betnerr had invited Nilir to join him that night.

Betnerr tossed his coppery brown hair over his shoulders, grinning down at Nilir’s pleasure-drunk expression, showing a row of sharp and tightly-packed pointed teeth. Nilir’s gold-glossed lips, now smeared by his lover’s kisses, rose at the corners in an indulgent smile. His smile faded a moment later when a sparkle in the sky finally caught his attention, falling just beyond the space above Betnerr’s shoulder. Nilir’s eyes widened and he propped himself up on his elbows all of sudden.

“What’s wrong?” Betnerr inquired immediately, seeing the expression on Nilir’s face change and feeling the sudden uncomfortable clench of Nilir’s hole around the base of his cock.

Before Nilir had time to answer, a great big booming splash startled them both. Whatever Nilir had seen in the sky fell into the hot spring beside them with great force, splashing and displacing water over the rocky edges of the pool and drenching both of them entirely. Frightened, Nilir screamed and shrank into his mate’s protective embrace, shuddering with fear.

“ **Am-falah**!” Betnerr growled out.

Though it usually took a great deal of effort to rouse Betnerr’s anger, he was in that moment beyond irate, though it was unclear whether this was because of being interrupted in a rare private moment, or if it was in answer to a possible threat. Nilir was shuddering with fright, his golden eyes as round as saucers when they eventually looked back up at the hostile profile of Betnerr’s snarling face.

Reluctant to let go, Nilir tugged on Betnerr’s arms and shoulders, trying to distract his mate from looking towards the steaming water, where whatever had fallen from the sky had ended up. It was probably dangerous. Maybe it was a ruby dragonflight weapon, maybe they were trying to catch him and bring him back. A small sob rose out of Nilir’s throat and he completely lost all of his sexual desire in but a handful of sparks.

Betnerr’s ardour also cooled, and with regret pooling in his heart he pulled away from his lover’s embrace and tight grip, all while cajoling him with soft and comforting whispers. He had to see what it was, he couldn’t allow any odd occurrences or threats into the Golden Heights without investigating them. As leader of the Bronze Phalanx it was one of his sworn duties, and he took his work very seriously.

Whatever it was, it remained where it had fallen in the middle of the spring, swaying with the water. It didn’t seem particularly large. Betnerr narrowed his eyes and held one of his hands up to wave it back and forth with a slight motion. The tips of his copper claws glowed a touch as a magic bulb formed in his palm, no larger than an apple, though it illuminated the entire pool of water very well when he suspended it in the air. With the area lit, Betnerr immediately identified the body of a **draconid** floating in the middle of the pool.

Following a shocked gasp, Betnerr waded into the steaming hot water, then swam his way into the deeper end to reach the unconscious stranger. When he got close enough to hook an arm beneath the man’s chest, he could immediately tell it was a golden brother. But what a state he was in. Betnerr’s lips pursed as his eyes trailed over the poor golden draconid’s body. He was starved near to death, his bones were sticking out beneath his sunken skin, even gently pulling the body against him Betnerr could tell it weighed next to nothing.

“What is it Bett?” Nilir’s warbly frightened tone inquired from the patio area.

“Don’t worry, love. It’s not a ruby **chenr**. It’s one of our golden brothers, and he’s in a really bad state. He must have fallen through a gate.”

“Oh no,” Nilir exclaimed in dismay, covering his mouth with the fingers of both hands. His fear evaporated and was replaced entirely with a frown of concern.

Once Betnerr’s feet met with the bottom of the shallow end of the hot spring pool, he stopped to gently hook both arms beneath the golden draconid’s body and lifted him out of the water, then carefully carried him out onto the patio. Nilir was ready to receive them both with dry towels in hand, as well as a crystal glass filled with ice cold water he had poured from the carafe by the bar.

The Lover’s Hot Springs may have been in a remote area of the Golden Heights, but the ancestral architects that had designed the amenities surrounding the hot springs had not forgone any comforts or extravagance in their construction. Luxurious private cabins and lairs hung off the white cliffs like golden mushrooms and saucers, and the pool Betnerr had chosen for his mate and himself was just as decadent and opulent as any other, well-stocked with supplies and the like.

Thankfully, this made it easier to provide emergency treatment for their drop-in stranger. Betnerr waited for Nilir to spread a couple of soft towels out on one of the smooth stone benches of the patio, keeping the padding clean and clear of moisture. When Nilir was done folding a third towel to serve as a pillow, Betnerr relinquished his precious burden on top of the bench.

Nilir immediately knelt beside the unconscious golden draconid to try and get some water into his mouth, while Betnerr stood back and closed his eyes, concentrating on clearing his mind. Being in such a remote locale, he needed the help of his horns to make his telepathy stronger.

Even as he thought about needing them, a pair of coppery bronze horns sprouted out of Betnerr's temples and shot upwards in thick corkscrews, almost resembling those of an impala. The tips glowed and sparkled with a light that intensified as soon as Betnerr began to send his words across the great distance separating the Lover’s Hot Springs and the Gilded Terraces.

 _‘Nidhor,’_ a short pause, _‘Gazfal,’_ another short pause, _‘I need you.’_

Nilir busied himself with smoothing back the stranger’s hair to get unobstructed access to his mouth and to get a better look at him. Poor thing, even the gold-touch on his skin was slightly faded from how little nourishment and power reserves he had left. Could it be that the ruby **chenr-falahi** had done this to him? Nilir recalled how awful his own state had been back when he was a slave to the ruby dragonflights’ every whim, it was not inconceivable that their stranger was an escapee of a similar fate. Nilir shuddered at the thought.

He shoved the bad memories back into the deepest recesses of his mind, then gently picked hair away from the stranger’s cheeks and brow. After getting a good look at the man’s face, Nilir froze, the glass he had in his free hand dropped out of his grip and shattered into pieces by his knee. Shock coursed throughout his body and rendered him speechless. He couldn’t believe his eyes, and had to rub them with his fingers several times, before he gently lifted the young man’s head to cradle it against his arm. Tears slowly collected on his lashes.

“What happ—” Betnerr was startled out of his telepathic conversation and stepped forward with a frown at the sound of the shattering glass.

His words died on his lips when he looked down into the face of someone he knew only too well. Though starvation had caused his eyes to appear sunken into the sockets of his skull, and his cheeks had hollowed severely, the otherwise beautiful elfin features of Betnerr’s best friend could not be mistaken. Nilir and Betnerr both gazed down at Nireth in mute shock. They never expected to see their friend again, not after Nireth had left them to seek death in the Grave Flats over a month ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Sparks** : Seconds (i.e. time).
> 
>  **Turns** : Hours.
> 
>  **Flicker** : Minute (i.e. time).
> 
>  **Am-falah!** : What the fuck!
> 
>  **Draconid** : A dragon's human-shifted form.
> 
>  **Brother** : Usually the use of the word brother denotes camaraderie, not familial relation.
> 
>  **Chenr** : Shit (noun).
> 
>  **Chenr-falahi** : Shitfucks (noun).


	3. Identity Crisis

Look at that. What a perfect little world. A ball of blue, shrouded in clouds of white, spinning slowly in the black sea of Nireth’s mindspace. There was a moon too, and there was also a sun, spinning around in their orbits like the ornaments of a lazy mobile. So that’s what a sun was, of course, how could he forget something so basic? Nireth looked at these little bits and pieces of the celestial bodies he had grown up with, before confusion forced him to take a closer look.

The planet was called Earth by its inhabitants. Although its name was uninspired, it was humble and familiar, eliciting a warm glow in the hearts of the humans calling it home. Humans, not dragons. This was not a realm, this was a different world entirely, and even though Nireth shouldn’t have had any knowledge of it whatsoever, he did. More than knowledge, Nireth could remember living there.

Never before had he experienced a dream that seemed so vivid, uninterrupted, and crystal clear. The dreamworld seemed to want to show him something. Curious, Nireth followed without hesitation, feeling his consciousness shooting towards the blue planet and breaching its atmosphere at a dizzying speed, until the ground rushed up to meet him in a moment of complete stillness.

Buildings and skyscrapers shot up to the sky all around him, street signs and billboards unraveled like paper cards, neon lights and flashing display screens blinked into life, while motorised vehicles and cars sprouted out of the asphalted ground like mushrooms. Within a handful of seconds the city around him took shape, giving birth to hundreds upon hundreds of human shapes and shadows.

For the time being, nothing moved. All of these elements were suspended in a moment of time, as if someone had hit the pause button on a video. Nireth’s presence turned around itself, gazing at the towering buildings and the wonders of humanity’s modern age, recalling the sounds, the smells, and the atmosphere of bustling city life. It was wrong, there should have been movement.

As soon as this thought left him, the scene sprang to life. People walked, vehicles drove, neon signs and video screens began to flicker and emit the expected noises he somehow knew they should produce. People walked through him, as though he didn’t exist, but this didn’t seem alarming to him, not when this was a dream. What alarmed him most was the fact that he knew the names and functions of everything around him, including the rules of walking through a big city.

There were men. Men he knew, because he knew that he was a man himself, but there was a separate second half to men in this world. Nireth’s consciousness frowned, his presence stared at the humans that walked past with odd fat sacs attached to their chests, either bouncing freely or regimentally held in place by some hellish contraption. He knew what those were, it was coming to him. Slowly like a ticking counter, Nireth’s recollection landed upon the answer and it lit up in his brain like a gameshow sign.

Tits. That’s what those were. Breasts, boobs, tits. Women had them. Some men had them too, and they could sometimes grow just as fatty and bouncy, but there were differences. Men and women, that’s right, that’s what humans were. Although, there were other complex sexes here that Nireth was also mildly aware of, the intersexes and non-binaries that Nireth’s mind suddenly recalled. None of those existed in the realms, so how did he understand this concept without coaxing?

_‘Because I was one.’_

Nireth’s consciousness fit another puzzle piece into place pertaining to his identity, thereby turning the entire puzzle up over its head as to who he really was. He was Nireth the dragon now, but he had not always been a dragon. This world, this Earth, this used to be his home. He was so sure of it that the thought frightened him a little. What on _earth_ happened to him?

His consciousness froze, causing the city and world around him to freeze as well. He had used that expression before, while in the Grave Flats, a seemingly imperceptible sliver of evidence as to his origins, but now Nireth recalled the memory without difficulty. So then, if he was a human from Earth, how was it that he found himself waking up in an alien world without the least bit of recollection as to where he originally came from?

The city around him collapsed in on itself like folding bits of card, flattening and compacting, then suddenly rising once again and unfolding like a page in a pop-up book. This time he was in a quiet neighbourhood suburb, standing on the pavement of a row of houses with colourfully-painted siding. Each front yard and all of the hedges were clipped to perfection, kids’ toys were scattered in the grass, here and there a couple of sprinklers were spraying water out over the greenery.

Nireth stared down the avenue and recognised the street instantly. His parents lived here, and so did he at one time, before he moved out to go to college. Memories swirled in his head all of a sudden, showing him scenes of family gatherings, familiar faces, and friendships he had formed in this quaint little neighbourhood.

As these forgotten memories began to flood his mind, a cold wind blew around Nireth’s presence and whipped the trees lining the street severely, until they lost all their leaves and a light snow began to fall. That’s right, it should have been winter. Christmas, to be exact. One by one, the houses along the avenue sprouted festive decorations to fit the scene, until they all were bedecked in lights and tinsel. A thick blanket of snow now covered the rooftops, gardens and driveways of each house.

It was supposed to be nighttime. The time of day changed even as he thought about it, rotating into night swiftly and hanging stars up in the sky. He was driving back to his parents’ house from a party somewhere a few blocks away. The name of the host escaped him, and even the memory of the events were fuzzy and fogged. Because he was drunk, Nireth surmised, feeling a cold clammy sensation where his chest might have been if his presence had a corporeal form.

The memories came in little snippets at a time, flashing across the idyllic scenery of the suburb bedecked joyfully for the holidays. Nireth’s human self brought pain and suffering into this peaceful and quiet neighbourhood. They were going too fast. Laughing, knocking back the beer in their bottles until he couldn’t even see straight, egged on by friends to go even faster. He swerved into an icy patch and lost control of the car.

One of the girls in the back screamed, his best friend was screaming too, they slammed into something that crushed the side of the car and flipped it over. Nireth was now privy to the wreckage as a silent observer, watching as the car flipped, bounced, screeched and broke into hundreds of smaller pieces. None of them had been wearing seatbelts and at least two people were thrown out of windows, including himself.

Nireth remained where he was for a long time, watching the smoking vehicle and the bloody broken bodies spilling out of it into the road. In a few words, it was beyond horrific. Lights came on in the houses along the street where the accident had just occurred, people in pyjamas and heavy coats came out and immediately gave cries of alarm, instructing their families to call emergency services.

The mystery as to what happened was no longer a mystery and Nireth tore his perception away from the scene, blanking his ‘sight’ and shaking the scenery out of his mind’s eye. Though this was the reality of his former life, it didn’t explain anything, in fact it just brought with it more questions clamouring in his brain for answers.

He heard a soft sobbing all of a sudden. A whisper of breath at first, but mounting in desperate sorrow the longer he listened. It sounded like it was coming from somewhere just ahead in his dreamverse. Nireth’s presence began to ‘walk’ forward, moving at a slow pace towards the minute glimmer of light he could see up ahead in the distance. As he approached the light, he could see that it was the bowed back of a golden draconid, leaning over someone else, crying.

The man lying upright in the golden draconid’s lap was dead. Such a shame for so handsome a man to have died. Blood pooled out the side of his shapely mouth, his long coppery brown hair lay in bloodied tendrils around him. A great big bloody gash yawned in the very centre of his chest, showing the cracked bone of his sternum. The grieving golden draconid didn’t care, he held onto his dead lover, rocking back and forth while sobbing inconsolably.

When Nireth’s presence had circled around the pair, he suffered another shock to his system. Instinctively, he knew that the body of the grieving draconid before him was the same body he had manifested in when he awoke in the Grave Flats. The young man kneeling in front of him stopped sobbing and looked up all of a sudden, surprise evident in his pretty upturned eyes.

Nireth stared back, attaining a physical form within his dreamverse, a perfect mirrored copy of the draconid kneeling in front of him. They looked at one another in shocked silence for a handful of sparks, before the kneeling Nireth’s lips lifted in an anguished smile.

_‘So, that’s how it is.’_

Impostor Nireth wanted to ask Original Nireth what this was all about, but before he could even open his mouth, the figures in front of him exploded into ash and crumbled to nothingness. Nireth stared at the blackness in front of him, then watched in silent fascination as two points of light came into view on either side of one another. One of the lights was a sparkling ball of gold, the other was a small misty star.

They floated closer and closer, and when they met, sparks and mist flew and blended with one another, spinning one light one way and the other light the other way. Eventually, both lights separated and fell like shooting stars into an unknown darkness. It may not have been a detailed explanation, but the pantomime of lights seemed to explain one or two things to Nireth, even though it severely challenged his beliefs.

He was supposed to believe that those lights were two souls, and that one of these two souls belonged to him and the other belonged to the dragon Nireth. After death they had somehow collided with one another, then got knocked into entirely different worlds each. But that was crazy make-believe talk! And yet, what other explanation could there be? How could he justify the patently unscientific things he had experienced up until the moment he reached home. Home? Wasn’t Earth his home? So then, where was he now?

 _Who_ was he now?

☙✿❧

The rented lair was spacious enough to accomodate a group of ten draconids quite comfortably, which was more than enough room for the six individuals currently using it. Nilir and Betnerr’s holiday might have been cut short, but neither one of them seemed regretful in the least. On the contrary, their faces showed frowns of concern most of the time, in between conversations they had with their friends and the emerald dragon that had come to them upon Nidhor’s request.

Following Nireth’s unceremonious appearance, three days of constant care and watchfulness ensued. They each took turns to bathe his unconscious body in the energy-rich waters of the hot springs, in between feeding him with life-giving energy, until their combined efforts had beaten back some of his emaciated appearance, though he still looked quite fragile.

Betnerr gazed down at where Nireth was nestled in the large circular bed of his sleeping area. He was covered with a thick and elegantly-patterned quilted duvet, to block out the chill of night and keep him warm. His breathing was steady and less laboured, and every now and then his eyes would move rapidly beneath closed eyelids.

Another positive sign, though somewhat subtle, was that Nireth’s **gold-touch** had completely returned, gleaming where the curlicue patterns decorated his arms, back and legs, as if a painter had touched a brush dipped with gold paint and swirled it over Nireth’s creamy warm skin. All of these seemingly minute improvements meant he was fighting to come back, but it was still a great big struggle for him. It had also taken the unwavering help of Am-Wen-Thor, Nidhor’s emerald friend, to pull Nireth back from the precipice of death.

Wenthor looked up from where he sat on the edge of the bed, his lime green gaze focusing on Betnerr shrewdly. Wenthor didn’t smile much, but he had a very comforting level of expertise when it came to treating biological difficulties and illnesses. At least that was the impression Betnerr got from him. Not wanting to interrupt Nireth’s treatment, Betnerr stood awkwardly by the gauzy drapes separating Nireth’s bed from the rest of the lair, unsure whether to leave or stay.

“His heartbeat is stronger,” Wenthor offered brusquely.

Hearing this, Betnerr’s expression broke into a relieved smile. More blessedly good news. “That’s great,” he offered, looking back at the other man with an appreciative nod.

“I imagine it won’t be long now before he wakes,” Wenthor elucidated further. “When he does, make sure he eats half a bowl of meaty broth a day, no more. His stomach has shrunk from his starvation, he won’t be able to gorge much. Keep this in mind. Oh, and continue giving him the medicinal tea until he can start moving around again, at that point it would be safe to stick to plain meat dishes and water. Only water, mind.”

“You’re not staying,” it wasn’t a question.

Wenthor nodded and rose to stand on his slippered feet, folding his pale green hands back into the wide sleeves of his over-robe. Not much was visible beneath the voluminous forest green robe, just the hint of flashy brocaded silk beneath the functional and utilitarian heavy cotton fabric worn on top. It was belted at the waist rather flatteringly with a gold-linked belt, and held closed in the front with little pearl buttons.

Even though Wenthor’s attire wasn’t too rich, Betnerr’s ensemble of a cotton wrap-around vest and buckskin breeches appeared quite drab in comparison. Then again his attire was only meant to be used for lounging, the more impressive stuff was stored away in the bottomless armoire between his and Nilir’s bed and Nireth’s.

“I have to get back to the Tenebrous Gardens, I’ve already been away for far too long,” Wenthor explained, sniffing slightly.

“Of course,” Betnerr replied, feeling more at ease now about Wenthor having to leave.

The other draconid would not leave Nireth’s side the first night he had been examined, so the mere fact that he felt satisfied enough to leave now gave Betnerr a much better understanding of how well Nireth’s recovery was going. Wenthor shuffled towards the curtains, paused beside Betnerr and opened his mouth to seemingly say something, but shook his head and left the enclosed sleeping area, letting the translucent drapes fall back in place behind him.

Betnerr quirked a thick coppery brown brow at the man’s odd behaviour, but chalked it up to emerald dragon weirdness, then focused his attention back on Nireth’s sleeping figure. A wan smile returned to Betnerr’s lips, and he approached the bed to carefully sit on the soft and springy edge of it. He reached out one of his hands, cupping Nireth’s face and ear gently, then combed his **bronze-touched** fingers through his friend’s pretty gold blond hair.

“You’ve caused quite the buzz with your return, Niri,” Betnerr crooned softly, stroking his thumb tenderly over Nireth’s cheekbone. “Then again, you’re always juuust a tad on the dramatic side, aren’t you?”

“Whem… Eye…” Nireth’s voice croaked out.

Betnerr froze, his coppery hazel gaze focused intensely on Nireth’s eyelids and the rapid movement of eyes beneath. Dreaming, Betnerr thought to himself, not daring to even take as much as a breath. Nireth’s body began to shift and jolt slightly in his sleep, his eyebrows wrinkled with a frown, then smoothed soon after as he lay still on the bed once again. Only then did Betnerr expel the breath that had been trapped in his lungs for a handful of sparks.

“You need to wake up sometime, if only just to eat,” Betnerr admonished his unconscious friend in a whisper, smiling his fond smile once again. “You used to be such a glutton, now look at you.”

The light and airy curtains rustled slightly before Nilir passed through them, his expression mildly concerned as it had been for the past three days. He balanced a small tray between his hands, upon which sat a crystal teacup filled with Nireth’s medicinal tea. The teacup base was decorated with scrolling metalwork and enameled flowers that coiled upward into a dainty flower-dotted handle, and was a perfect match to the similarly decorated crystal tray.

Nilir smiled at his mate, mouthing a kiss at Betnerr which the other man reciprocated, after which he set the tray down on the bedside table and joined Betnerr at Nireth’s bedside. Betnerr welcomed his mate’s presence warmly, wrapping his arm around Nilir’s narrow shoulders and pulling his mate’s chest-length golden locks away from his neck so he could kiss it.

“How is he?”

“Moving, mumbling,” Betnerr murmured against Nilir’s floral-scented skin.

“Really?” Nilir inquired, his expression brightening.

“Mhm,” Betnerr confirmed, hugging his bondmate into a tighter embrace.

Nilir chuckled shyly, but his delight was evident in the way his eyes sparkled. He had worried just as much about Nireth’s recovery as his mate, the news that he was possibly close to waking was wonderful. However, Nireth still needed to be given the fortifying draught in the tea Wenthor had prepared for him.

Playfully attempting to escape his bondmate’s possessive hold, Nilir giggled and strained to reach the teacup, patting Betnerr’s arms admonishingly until his mate finally let go of him. When he was no longer in danger of dropping the cup, Nilir carefully held it in his hand and took the delicate crystal funnel that had been lying next to it on the tray, before inserting the latter very carefully into the side of Nireth’s mouth.

The tea was still steaming and scalding hot, but it didn’t even make Nireth flinch when Nilir began to pour it into the funnel. Nilir waited and watched for the telling bob of Nireth’s **throat apple** , indicating that he had swallowed successfully, before trickling more of the piping hot tea into the funnel. Nilir continued to pour the tea until the entire cup was finished. In this way they had slowly been giving him liquids over the past three days, until he was sufficiently hydrated, now it was just a matter of getting him to eat.

“Do you think he’ll wake up soon?” Nilir asked.

“I don’t know, but the signs seem to be good for it,” Betnerr replied.

The taller and larger draconid reached out to wrap his arms around Nilir’s hips again, pulling him back into his lap when his mate had placed the teacup back on the tray. Seeing Nireth in this way had rekindled his protectiveness over Nilir. After finally finding his life-bonded, Betnerr was wary about the possibility that the same tragedy that befell Nireth could befall them as well. Just thinking about it made his chest ache.

“I really hope he wakes up soon,” Nilir murmured softly.

“Me too,” Betnerr echoed.

They sat for a while in silence, watching Nireth’s sleep fits, then slowly Nilir’s body softened back against his bondmate’s. Betnerr’s eyes came away from Nireth’s sleepy face and stared fixatedly on Nilir’s bared golden **nipples**. They shimmered, as if covered in gold body paint, but the skin was naturally lustrous there, as it was with the tendrils of gold-touch decorating Nilir’s fingers and arms. Nilir’s nipples had two delicate pieces of jewellery threaded through them, the gemstones of which glittered prettily in the light streaming down from the magic bulb floating above the bed.

Betnerr chuffed out a rumble deep in his chest and pinched Nilir’s nipples between his fingers, unable to resist the alluring call of the highly decorative little nubs of flesh. Nilir gasped and jumped slightly against his mate’s body, looking up at him and cupping the side of Betnerr’s face with his smaller hand. It was not a no… Betnerr grinned and continued to twist and rub his beautiful little mate’s nipples, enjoying the soft gasps he produced, and entirely pleased with himself when the front of Nilir’s gossamer kilt began to lift with an erection.

They had not had a chance to make love since Nireth dropped in on them, quite literally, and the need to copulate was burning deep down in Betnerr’s ball sac. Surely his balls would turn green soon if he didn’t have himself a good fuck with his lovely little morsel of a bondmate. Even though he had patience enough to fill the Singing Lagoon twice over, he still had his limits, and he was fast approaching them when it came to spending quality time with Nilir.

_‘Betnerr, Nidhor and I are taking our leave, unless you need us to stay. We’re going to see Am-Wen-Thor off, and make sure he gets back to the Gardens safely.’_

_‘Mmm, kay.’_

There was an amused slant to Gazfal’s next bout of telephatic communication. _‘Please try to not to crush the injured person while making love at his bedside, it really took way too much effort to put him back together again for you two to fuck him apart again.’_

_‘With utmost respect, Rahv-Gaz-Fal. Get stuffed.’_

Gazfal’s mental laughter faded in Betnerr’s mind as his second-in-command left the lair together with Nidhor and Wenthor. They had all shared in the vigil, waiting, helping, and hoping that Nireth would recover, leaving very important tasks half-done. Betnerr could not ask them to delay their work any longer, nor would he seek to keep them here. The most dangerous of hurdles were behind Nireth now, the rest was all up to his mental and physical fortitude now.

“Where were we?” Betnerr asked his mate in a husky whisper.

“I think you were playing with my nipples,” Nilir replied, flushing bright crimson across his cheeks and nose.

“Oh yessss, the nipplessss,” Betnerr voiced in a sibilant whisper.

Nireth frowned, a soft moan eked out of his nose, his eyelids fluttered and he blinked at the blurry light source overhead, waiting for his vision to come back into focus. When it did, he could clearly make out the canopy of drapery hanging from a frame above the bed. Bed. He was lying on a soft, yet springy mattress, and was covered with a thick quilted duvet that seemed to be stuffed with feathers, or some sort of material simulating the same feel.

It was deliciously warm under the cover, enough that he almost wanted to close his eyes again, until a giggle to his right made his eyes pop open entirely. Swiveling his gaze towards the source of the noise, Nireth’s eyes widened owlishly upon his witnessing a pair of dudes just making out on the edge of the bed, like he wasn’t even there. He lay perfectly still, holding his breath, seeing as the two men were thoroughly distracted with one another.

One of them was larger, muscular, with long copper-brown hair tied up into a wavy ponytail. Shimmering copper patterns decorated the unknown man’s thick arms, radiating out from the tips of his clawed fingers, all the way up to his elbows. The smaller man sitting in the dark-skinned man’s lap was the giggly one. He was the same type as Nireth, from what he could see, and extremely very much male, judging by the exposed and amply leaking cock the larger man was teasing with the tips of his claws.

When it became quite clear that these two were more than engrossed in one another, Nireth’s distress levels rose. Not because he found two men jerking each other off gross or anything, actually it was kind of hot, but that's beside the point. He was having a mental crisis, and on top of that, there were two strange dudes groping each other right in front of him, if he didn’t stop them, were they going to just fuck? Right there?

A part of Nireth wanted to watch, before he slapped that part silly and shoved it back down from wherever it had come from. Something to do with testosterone, most probably. This was not the time for porn. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again when the little guy gasped so sweetly it made Nireth’s slumbering cock twitch. For god’s sake, get a grip! He pursed his lips together, closed his eyes again, then opened them with a slightly more determined look shining in their depths.

“Uhhh. I don’t mean to interrupt or anything, but… Who the fuck are you? And why are you making out in front of me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Draconid** : A dragon's human-shifted form.
> 
>  **Throat apple** : Adam's apple.
> 
>  **Gold-touch / Bronze-touched** : Skin-touch is the collection of decorative patterns on certain types of draconids' skin. it shimmers beautifully in the light and looks almost like metallic body art..
> 
>  **Nipples** : Draconids have nipples! Apart from being extremely sensitive erogenous zones, they are part of a draconid's mating display. In other words, they function like a peacock's tail. Dragons in draconid form rely on jewellery to make their nipples stand out more.


	4. Who is Nireth, Really?

Truthfully? Impostor Nireth was afraid. He was not a scientific genius, nor was he a religious philosopher, but he understood the implications of his current existence and it worried him into a sense of sedately mounting panic. To all intents and purposes, the people in front of him were strangers and he had no way of knowing whether these strangers were friends or foes. Perhaps antagonising them with rudeness wasn’t the best strategy then, he chastised himself mentally as he shrank back against the mattress a little bit.

Given the draconid pair’s intimate activities, Nireth could at least infer from such behaviour that they were not exceptionally concerned with being discovered, implying at least some measure of them being comfortable in his presence. This observation was neither incorrect nor entirely accurate on Nireth’s part, as the two strangers froze immediately upon hearing his dismayed comment, but otherwise didn’t quite change positions.

The three of them sat facing each other, staring at one another owlishly, until Nireth blushed a soft peach colour all the way down to his chest and tore his gaze away. The smaller man’s face and body were really pretty and the larger man’s muscular build and smooth facial features were also extremely attractive, so much in fact, that the effect their appearance had on him drove Nireth to avert his gaze in embarrassment. What was wrong with them? Shouldn’t they be covering themselves up and preserving their dignity, or something? What was wrong with _him_ , for that matter? It wasn’t like he had never seen gorgeous men before.

“Nireth!”

The chorus of both men crying out Nireth’s name showed familiarity and acquaintance. Impostor Nireth should have felt some sort of comfort knowing that he was not alone in this strange new world, that there were others who knew him, but instead he ended up feeling even more distraught.

These people—whoever they were—knew the other Nireth, the Nireth who had died and left his vessel empty for the taking, not him. He was some strange Earthling usurper of their dead friend’s body. He couldn’t tell them this, he had no idea how these strangers would react. Moreover, he didn’t even know whether to consider these facts as absolute truths, or whether he was just some crazy out-of-his-mind dragon with a colourful imagination.

So the alleged impostor that he was simply girded his loins within his borrowed outer shell and clutched the duvet a little bit tighter with shaking fingers. Betnerr and Nilir spilled forward onto their knees with a sudden bout of excitement, not at all picking up on the more reticent actions of the young draconid on the bed, at least not at first. Their joy was so great that Nilir didn’t even notice his indecent exposure until it brushed against the soft bedding.

At the sudden intimate touch of soft cotton on heated flesh, a deep vermilion blush coloured Nilir’s face and he hurriedly tugged the waistband of his kilt back up over the curving length of his erection, hiding it away from sight, much to Nireth’s relief. Betnerr’s gaze fixed itself upon the delicate profile of Nireth’s face, his heartbeat quickening with a mix of jubilation and relief to see his friend awake.

Nireth’s panic bubbled over. This was almost worse. Maybe he should have just let them get it on, then he wouldn’t have to be nervous about the extra scrutiny. He stole a handful of wary surreptitious glances, seeing that both men were sitting and watching him expectantly. Nireth was forced to look at them again, or risk blowing his flimsy cover. He didn’t know who they were, how could he even hope to approach this problem? At least Virfal had been a stranger, but running into people who knew the real Nireth was going to be a huge problem.

“H-hi,” Nireth mumbled, looking up through his long golden lashes at the two men sitting on the bed in almost coy fashion.

Betnerr cocked his head to the side. High? Nireth’s second utterance was rather a tad confusing, though perhaps his words from before had been just as incoherent, though Betnerr couldn’t recall them now what with all the excitement. Oh, wait, the pillows. Of course. The confusion darkening Betnerr’s expression cleared immediately and he smiled with warmth at Nireth again.

“We didn’t want you to choke on the water and tea we’ve been giving you to drink, that’s why we had to prop you up with the pillows so much. We can get rid of some of them for you now, if you’d like,” Betnerr explained.

Already he walked into a pitfall. Nireth swallowed hard and scowled down at the duvet bunched between his knees, mentally beating himself up about the confusion caused by his choice of words. They probably sounded more like noises to them. Come to think of it, they weren’t even speaking in English, so how in the world did he even learn how to speak the local language? Not just that, he managed to verbally transliterate the colloquialisms he was used to as a human into this foreign speech. This was some voodoo shit for reals.

He couldn’t talk like a human from Earth if he wanted to blend in here. This was going to be difficult, he was going to say so many stupid things, they would find out he was a fraud, then they would turn into dragons and they’d eat him. His human life was so short, and now his dragon life was going to be even shorter. What kind of comedy of errors was this?

“Uhhh, th-thank you,” he replied haltingly, bowing his head again to keep from having to look into their eyes. He was such a cringey and terrible liar.

Betnerr’s smile tarnished slightly. Wasn’t Nireth happy to see them? Suddenly it occurred to him why his friend might have seemed withdrawn and he mentally cursed himself over his idiocy. Just because Nireth came back from the Grave Flats, an extraordinary occurrence in itself, it didn’t mean that he had overcome the debilitating sorrow that had driven him to seek an early death in the first place. Betnerr’s expression became more solemn, his gaze dropped to the duvet and he was at a loss for words.

Nilir had been sitting quietly watching the exchange and despite the excitement beating in his heart, he too seemed to realise that something wasn’t quite right with Nireth. When he looked at Betnerr’s suddenly grave expression, it was like he was transported back in time almost six months ago, when Nireth’s entire world came crashing down. Nilir wrung his hands, feeling helplessly lost as to what to do, before remembering about the meat broth he had left bubbling away in the kitchen.

“Oh, yes. You must be hungry, Nireth. I should get you some of the broth I’ve prepared,” Nilir offered, his lips twitching upward in what he hoped was a comforting smile.

Nireth looked up briefly, his eyes flashing at the mention of food, and as if to offer its own commentary on the promise of being filled, his stomach growled. Betnerr’s gloomy expression brightened at that, he even chuckled, then reached out to try and ruffle his friend’s hair, but Nireth flinched away. It was instinctual, he didn’t like people he didn’t know touching him, especially his hair, but the look it fostered made Impostor Nireth curse himself mentally. He had unwittingly committed yet another faux pas.

The rejection of the contact shocked the couple, but neither one of them made a grander issue of it. Betnerr got off the bed, stopping Nilir from fetching the broth. “It’s all right, I’ll get it,” he murmured, then brushed his lips against Nilir’s temple and left to get a bowl of food for Nireth.

Nilir looked back at Nireth’s frowning face, his own expression full of sympathy. It must still hurt, no wonder he pushed Betnerr’s affection aside and didn’t seem happy to see them. How stupid of them to expect that he should be glad. Whatever circumstances had driven Nireth to come back, at least they might be able to help him through them this time, unlike their failed attempts before. Not many dragons got a second chance, even if it would be a second chance without a lifelong bondmate.

“Niri,” Nilir ventured softly, pausing when he managed to get Nireth to look at him, just giving himself time to be able to say his next words. As much as it hurt to speak them, it was important for him to convey how committed both he and Betnerr were to Nireth’s comfort and happiness. “Even if Neizerik is—not around, it’ll be okay. Betnerr and I will take care of you.”

“Neizerik?” Nireth asked, looking up at Nilir with his eyebrows raised.

Nilir felt a chill rushing through his body as colour began to drain out of his face. Nireth immediately knew that he had blundered, not just a small blunder either, but a mighty blunder. He assumed Betnerr was the big buff dude with the amazing eyes, but of course the name Neizerik didn’t ring any bells. Judging from his reaction, whoever Neizerik was, Original Nireth must have been pretty close to him if the guy looked so poleaxed about the question. Fuck! Fuck, fuck fuck, fuck, fuckety, FUCK.

“I… I’m sorry, b-but my memories, they’re all—they’re all jumbled up,” Nireth supplied rather lamely, in an attempt to salvage whatever was left of the likelihood that this man would believe he was really the same Nireth.

Nilir’s expression softened, but he was still very obviously perturbed. Could a dragon really forget their bondmate so easily? It was the only thing Nireth had been thinking of in the final days before he went on his journey to the Grave Flats. It seemed impossible that he could ever forget, but Nilir didn’t want to upset Nireth or dredge up any unpleasant memories if they would have an effect on his current fragile state.

“You must have been through quite an ordeal,” Nilir offered in a sympathetic tone. “But I’m sure once you recover, your memories will return to you.”

Nireth winced internally. He didn’t know what exactly had been so shocking about his question, until a bright flicker of a memory tumbled into his mind, the memory of Nireth kneeling down and sobbing over the dead body of another man. Could that have been Neizerik? If so, then Nireth had been deeply affected by his supposed death, judging from his demonstrated anguish. Having a small measure of possible confirmed truth to his dream visions only brought him more anxiety.

No amount of recovery was going to fix this. The problem was a fundamental one; he simply didn’t have Nireth’s original memories beyond what had briefly been revealed to him in his dreams. Even then, the information was disjointed and sparing. He had no legs to stand on if he were to be questioned more heavily. Sooner or later these two people, who seemed to know Nireth very well, would discover the yawning gulf of disparity in character.

Betnerr already felt something was suspect. He did not bring his concerns to light just yet, and decided to discuss matters privately with Nilir instead. Even though private communications bordered on rude, and could have been detected, the bronze draconid decided to risk it.

_‘Is he speaking?’_

Betnerr asked of his mate while ladling some of the simmering meat broth out of the pot on the range. Though it was sitting on top of the metal cooktop, there was no visible fire to be seen. The reason was simple, Nilir had used magic to keep the bottom of the pot itself at a constant simmering temperature. The heat the pot-bottom sustained could remain as it was almost indefinitely, or until the spell cast on it was broken.

 _‘He doesn’t remember Neizerik,’_ Nilir replied, his mind-voice sounding distressed.

Betnerr nearly dropped the bowl of broth in his hands out of shock. _‘What?’_

_‘He looked at me like I had spoken the name of someone he might have met once at the Meeting Grove, and not his dead bondmate.’_

Betnerr’s fingers tightened over the floral crystal bowl he was holding, his coppery claws extended to tap along the outside of it. That just wasn’t possible. Betnerr’s half-roused suspicions increased tenfold, but he eventually expelled the breath that had frozen in his chest and calmly went to retrieve a tray for the bowl of broth and a spoon with which Nireth could eat. Illusion magic? He wondered. Could this really be a ruby plot, after all?

_‘He says his memory is jumbled, but…’_

_‘But you don’t believe it,’_ Betnerr supplied.

No, neither did he, really. Nilir’s discomfiture wasn’t unwarranted. Betnerr raised another layer of mental shields and looked over his shoulder at where his collapsible lance rested in its holder by the sitting area, marking where it was should he have need of it soon. Using Nireth’s guise to infiltrate the Golden Heights would be a bold plot indeed, but not impossible if that was really the case. His good mood darkened considerably, but the aggression he began to feel in his heart was carefully locked away for the moment. Nothing had been established yet.

_‘Stay alert, love. I’m not so sure whether this concern is premature, but I am uncertain if Nireth is… Nireth.’_

Upon hearing this, Nilir gazed back at the other golden draconid on the bed, his eyes roaming over every part of him with **dragonsight** , but he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. No illusions, no magical reverberations, just an expression of reluctance to communicate further. That alone was suspicious in and of itself.

“Here we are. A nice hot broth,” Betnerr announced brightly, without a hint of hostility in his tone of voice or manner.

He approached the table and transferred the bowl of broth and spoon over to the tray with the empty teacup. The smell elicited a sudden chorus of groans from Nireth’s stomach, and the young man’s peach blush suffused his face again. Betnerr’s gaze was sharper and more analytical when he turned it on the draconid with the bowed head.

Nireth was experiencing another crisis. Several, in fact. Naturally, the first set of crises were to do with the communication and identity issues, but as if those issues weren’t dire enough, his borrowed body suddenly decided that it was extremely attracted to the men crowding around him. Granted, they really were beautiful, but now was most definitely the time for rigid self-control. Unfortunately, his cock was having none of that control bullshit, standing proudly at attention beneath the duvet, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

That? That wasn’t even the biggest problem. He swiftly came to the realisation that his bladder was rather full, and if he didn’t do something about it soon, something even worse was going to happen. Pissing in the bed might have been considered a death-worthy offence in this world for all he knew. He was way, way too old to piss himself and make it look cute.

“I, um, I wonder if I could use the bathroom?” Nireth inquired, sensing the almost unnatural quality of the compound word he had just spoken in the local language, and wondered if he was making another linguistic mistake.

“Bath? You wish to bathe? But we only just washed you this morning,” Nilir supplied with an astonished look.

Nireth grit his teeth in dismay, clutching the duvet in his fingers until the pale beige skin of his knuckles became nearly white. Yep, mistake. Looking like a kicked puppy, Nireth’s eyes glanced first at Nilir, then the taller man standing beside the bed, before he looked away, embarrassed by what he was about to say.

“I—I mean, that I n-need to empty my bladder,” he stammered.

Betnerr’s gaze seemed to lance through him and Nireth thought he would pass out from sheer shame. However, Betnerr’s scrutiny wasn’t critical of him nor mocking, he was merely alerted by the odd coupling of words Nireth had used earlier. The way he spoke and the way he constructed his sentences was different somehow, not wrong per se, just odd. Betnerr took a conscious mental note of this anomalous behaviour before softening his features in understanding.

“The whirlpool,” Betnerr offered slowly, watching the draconid in the bed very carefully.

“Y-yeah, yes. The—the whirlpool,” Nireth confirmed awkwardly with a nod.

What the ever-loving fuck. A whirlpool? Was it a whirlpool of piss? Did dragons make whirlpools with their dicks? He knew what a whirlpool bath was, but he didn’t think they had anything to do with urinating, unless dragons needed a giant-ass basin to piss in. This was getting ridiculous, all he wanted was to relieve himself of the suddenly very uncomfortable pressure in his abdomen.

As if taking pity on Nireth, Betnerr squared his shoulders, then without warning flipped the duvet up to expose Nireth’s naked body. Nireth gave a little gasp of shock, then stared with panicked eyes up into Betnerr’s surprised gaze when the very stiff organ he was hiding beneath the covers was revealed. Nireth cupped his unruly privates in his hands and curled in on himself until he resembled a shrimp. Incidentally, Nireth realised that there wasn’t even a single strand of hair on his body, or down there.

“Nireth,” Betnerr spoke with amusement warming his voice. “It isn’t anything I haven’t seen before.”

It isn’t? Nireth looked up at the smiling man’s face and felt his cock jump between his hands. Oh god. Why did he have to be so beautiful? Especially when he smiled like that. Looking back down at his borrowed body, Nireth could very much still see the effects of starvation, though he wasn’t as morbidly thin as he was in the Grave Flats, his limbs still shook with weakness and he knew without even thinking too deeply that he would never make it out of the bed under his own power. When he looked back at Betnerr again his expression was almost pained and pleading.

Betnerr watched the play of expressions on Nireth’s face, realising almost immediately that this was not how Nireth would usually have behaved in the same situation. The bashfulness was genuine, as was his reticence about being touched, both behaviours Nireth would not usually have shown. However, if this Nireth wanted to urinate then he would have to be carried. Knowing this, Betnerr stilled his momentary amusement and leaned in close to try and wrap his arms around the smaller draconid.

“Put your arms around my neck,” Betnerr advised gently, as if speaking to a much younger dragon than one of Nireth’s age.

Nireth felt himself being scooped up and snapped his thin arms around Betnerr’s neck in a knee-jerk reaction. With his erection exposed, Nireth felt his entire upper body heat up with a blush. Something about his past life was the cause of this intense shyness. Something about being gay, and no one else knowing. Because he didn’t want them to know? Maybe?

“By the way,” Betnerr murmured, giving the man in his arms a bit of a squeeze, then whispered silken soft next to Nireth’s ear, “I’m flattered.”

Nireth’s blush went several shades darker and his heartbeat pumped even faster when Betnerr’s voice went low like that. Nilir watched the exchange and hid a sudden smile that tugged on his lips with one of his graceful hands, trying to keep from embarrassing his mate’s precious burden with his amusement. This Nireth really  _was_ precious, especially how he blushed like a hatchling regarding his body’s functions. He also seemed terribly enamoured of Betnerr’s looks, which had never been a thing with Nireth in the past.

“I’ll go serve up some of the broth for us, love,” Nilir announced cheerfully.

Nilir got up off the bed and made his way towards the cooking area, while Betnerr stepped out from behind the privacy drapes of the canopy, carrying Nireth along with him. Once outside the drapes, Nireth got a small glimpse of the lair and its ridiculous size. The sheer luxury of all the furnishings and the breathtaking terrace with its view of the hot springs below left him completely floored, and luckily these wonders distracted him enough that his cock began to soften.

The glimpse he got was barely a small peek, before Betnerr carried him into a pod-shaped chamber at the back of the lair. The whirlpool chamber was somewhat over two **fullspans** in diameter, with an oval tubular shape, and was the only lockable ‘room’ of its kind within the lair, offering privacy for draconids to do their biological business away from prying eyes. They may have been dragons, but decorum had its place within their society nevertheless.

In the very centre of the chamber was a fluted funnel-shaped seat that had armrests on the sides like an actual throne, the seat itself was molded to fit the backsides of most draconids quite comfortably. Perhaps the most fascinating feature of all was the inside of the fluted bottom. A proper little whirlpool swirled constantly within, sparkling and glowing with magic at the bottom. Nireth got a good look at it while Betnerr set him down carefully so he could more or less stand. Huh, whirlpool!

“I’ll hold onto you,” Betnerr murmured, “Can’t have you falling in.”

“Ha…” Nireth replied, feeling warm all over.

It didn’t help that Betnerr took a hold of his hips, or that he was intending to stay and watch, but Nireth’s legs were shaking so badly that he knew there was no other option but to let him stay and help. Clutching at his very pretty and excited little penis, Nireth tried to convince it to behave and managed to haltingly spill out a stream, one dribble and droplet at a time at first, then eventually groaned in ridiculous relief when his flow splashed out evenly. Staring with hooded eyes down into the bowl of the whirlpool, he watched with fascination when the urine completely disappeared as soon as it hit the water.

“What happens if you fall in?” he asked in a temporary lapse of stupidity.

Betnerr’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t miss a beat and lied like it was undeniable truth. “You’d go where all the waste goes, I suppose.”

“Ew,” Nireth groused, not questioning the proffered information at all.

Funny little thing, Betnerr thought to himself, no longer labouring under the misconception that this was the same Nireth he and Nilir were familiar with. Something profound had no doubt happened in the Grave Flats, some event that fundamentally altered their friend in some way. Whatever it was, it either meant that Nireth’s psyche had changed entirely, or that this was indeed some sort of effective and extremely well-crafted illusion, the likes of which Betnerr had not seen in his own lifetime. Still, Betnerr wouldn’t alarm him, he would just observe quietly and make a decision based on what this odd little man in Nireth’s skin did.

“Done?” Betnerr asked meaningfully when Nireth’s stream ended.

Nireth flushed, but felt no need to go number two and nodded his head in confirmation that he was done. Betnerr waited for a moment more, but when it became obvious that Nireth wouldn’t respond to the subtle cue, or possibly didn’t know how to, Betnerr responded for him.

With a wave of his hand Betnerr’s claws gleamed and sparkled, then a spout of water shot up out of the middle of the whirlpool toilet and whipped the tip of Nireth’s cock with an efficient little splash to wash him. The sudden cool wash was so shocking it made him stumble backwards into Betnerr’s strong arms. The bronze dragon chuckled at the adorable response, then lifted Nireth up and carried him back out of the whirlpool chamber.

Though a part of Betnerr was saddened to know that this was unlikely to be his friend returned from the dead, there was something to be said about this new Nireth’s naivety. He was charming in his own way, though the commander of the Bronze Phalanx had to remind himself not to sink into his fondness too much just yet.

Once back in the bed, Nireth was grateful to have the bowl of hot broth placed in his hands, and discovered something else about his new body that was really quite amazing. Even though the broth was piping hot, he could spoon it into his mouth without waiting for it to cool, and he didn’t burn himself at all. The knowledge delighted him, as it meant he could feed himself a lot quicker and get something down into his groaning stomach.

Betnerr left him for a little while so he could finish his broth and relax, realising that it must be unnerving to be hovered over by people he likely couldn’t remember or didn’t know. He joined Nilir in the living room instead, flopping down onto the floor divan Nilir was sitting cross-legged on and leaned over his mate to give him a peck on the lips, then lifted his own bowl off the tray on the low central table. Their broth was thicker, had more spices in it, and crunchy bones containing delicious marrow.

“So?” Nilir asked quietly before spooning some broth into his mouth.

“So, so,” Betnerr replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

Nilir scowled and smacked Betnerr’s forearm with his spoon. “Don’t be like that, you’re annoying when you close off like a clam.”

“And you’re fishing for gossip,” Betnerr sighed out, picked up a bone out of the broth to begin knocking the delicious marrow out of it.

Nilir pursed his lips and smacked Betnerr on the arm with his spoon again, earning a dark little scowl and a warning tooth-snap from his mate. Truth was, Betnerr didn’t know what to make of it, really. He was almost certain that whoever he had saved from the hot spring was not the Nireth he had grown close to over the span of the last hundred years. This was someone else, he would bet his lance on it, but how could he even explain such a thing? Where did he start?

_‘I don’t think he’s the Nireth we know.’_

_‘You feel it too, then.’_

Betnerr shared a look with his mate and nodded, before sucking soft rich marrow out of the bone he cracked to chew and swallow it down. They would eat first, then perhaps they might be able to fish some answers out of their guest. Betnerr hoped that it wouldn’t be a case of cleverly-woven illusion magic, he was growing rather fond of the nervous and bashful little man they had saved, even if the incidents between them were few and fleeting,

Meanwhile, Nireth had cleaned off his portion, noting how his stomach felt impossibly full even though he hadn’t had more than maybe a cup of broth and some of the meaty bits. It really tasted quite good, not like anything he had ever tried before. Whatever it was, it hit the spot and gave his shrunken stomach something to work with.

Relieved and fed, Nireth took the opportunity to look around himself and examine the curtained off bed with more attention to detail. The drapes themselves were of a thin layered fabric that could let in light in the morning, but it was dark outside when he’d looked out the terrace earlier. He wondered what actual time it was. Close to bedtime? He felt pretty tired, despite being passed out for three whole days.

The mattress was amazing, so soft and springy, Nireth appreciated its bouncy comfort as he flopped back against it and the nest of pillows behind him. The fabric of the bedding felt like it was made from cotton and the gilded patterning in it was extremely pretty, it looked almost like it had been woven tiny detail by tiny detail in the manner a machine might have woven; intricately and with consistency. It couldn’t have been machine-made, though, not in this type of world. Could it? He knew next to nothing about where he was, maybe machines were a thing here.

Up above him, hanging as if suspended by a string, was a mage bulb. Nireth gazed at it with squinted eyes. It wasn’t too bright, but it showered the surroundings with a flame-toned spectrum of light that warmed all the draperies and made the gold threading in the linens shimmer. Even his arms shimmered where they were patterned with what looked like pure gold pigmentation, and a cursory glance at his chest revealed to him that he too had little shapely golden nipples similar to Nilir's, though his were undecorated.

Looking at his own nipples made his nethers jump and he had to control himself and his stupid libido that was entirely out of control. Being attracted to other guys was fine, but being attracted to his own body was just stepping one step too far over the line. Although, technically, this body wasn’t really his. Nireth's brows wrinkled together in a little frown. It was the only body he had now, and it seemed unlikely that he would be able to switch out at this point, even if he wanted to.

The low murmured conversation of his two hosts reached him from the den and Nireth closed his eyes and strained to try and hear their words, but they seemed to be talking about things other than himself. The information was interesting, some of it may even have been useful, but there was no greater context in which Nireth could anchor it, so in the end it didn’t suggest anything that might have been relevant to his situation.

He did find out that the smaller man was called Nilir, and the bigger man was definitely called Betnerr. The mystery of their identities was done away with succinctly, but Nireth knew that he couldn’t perform any sort of convincing charade to emulate their friend. He played the amnesiac card, but that wouldn’t fly for long, though maybe he could omit certain things and admit to the basic idea that he was not who they thought he was. Why was it to frightening, though? Neither one of them had given him reason to feel threatened, if anything they’ve been so sweet, kind and generous.

The sense of guilt that gnawed at him when he thought of taking Virfal’s last life energies resurfaced now, and Nireth couldn’t help but feel the burn of tears in his eyes. He didn’t want to hurt these people either, they very obviously missed their friend, and if he told them that he wasn’t the real Nireth, wouldn’t they be heartbroken?

Betnerr and Nilir had finished their meal while Nireth struggled with his thoughts, and now they stood on the patio of the gigantic semi-circular terrace to briefly admire the scenery and have a private talk. Betnerr had his arms around Nilir with his chin resting on his shorter mate’s shoulder, while Nilir’s expression was unfocused as he looked out over the terraced hot springs below, shrouded partially by the thick plumes of steam rising from their waters.

“I’ll talk to him,” Nilir offered, turning his head to kiss his mate’s cheek. “Get him out of his shell.”

“Mmm, that might work,” Betnerr agreed, “But I should be there too.”

“He might get frightened,” Nilir cautioned. “He might even hurt himself to try and get away if he feels threatened.”

“I have a feeling he wouldn’t. Illusion magic is strong, but I think we are seeing genuine starvation, he wouldn’t have the means to move with any measure of speed. I held him, Nilir, he’s so weak.”

“I know,” Nilir murmured. “I don’t think it’s a plot. I think something happened in the Grave Flats, but we won’t know anything **until the flame brightens**.”

“I’ll come with you,” Betnerr supplied, giving his lover a hug.

Nilir lead the way back inside, his hand and fingers linked with Betnerr’s as they both approached the privacy drapes of Nireth’s bed. When they pulled them aside Nireth looked towards the source of the cool draft and hiked the duvet up higher to covers his shoulders, the smile he directed at Nilir and Betnerr when they came in and sat on the edge of the bed was still somewhat nervous.

They didn’t make him as nervous as before, but the subject of his procrastination made him feel superbly guilty and uncomfortable in their presence for different reasons. He looked down at the duvet pattern and remained quiet, trying to come up with some way to bring it up and not make it sound like a bad script for a horror movie. He wasn’t making much progress, which was perhaps just as well, because Nilir decided to take the initiative and brought up the topic with more grace and poise than Nireth ever could.

“You know… There’s no reason for you to feel nervous or frightened,” Nilir began, placing his hands demurely on his own thighs. He smiled a soft and nonthreatening smile at Nireth and continued. “Betnerr and I, we mean you no harm. And, even though your appearance might be a little unsettling and perhaps slightly upsetting to us, there must be some explanation for why you find yourself here, in the guise of our friend.”

Clearly the admission was painful to them both, but they were prepared to accept the fact that Nireth might have really perished in the Grave Flats and that this youngster may have looked exactly like him, but was most definitely not the same dragon. They both waited with bated breath as Nireth’s eyes widened in shock, then his entire face coloured with a blush of shame, and he hung his head in the same manner he had shown earlier when he was nervous, uncertain or embarrassed. It made Nilir’s heart ache for him a touch.

“If you tell us who you really are, perhaps all can be explained in time, and we might be of more help to you,” Nilir encouraged gently.

Nireth chewed on this latest offering. They knew something wasn’t right, and yet they still kept treating him so well. Of course they knew, even an idiot could figure it out, he wasn’t the best actor and he didn’t intentionally wish to deceive anyone, he just wasn’t sure who to trust or what to do. It was all so fantastical still, he didn’t know if he half believed it himself, but he owed these kind people an explanation in the very least, even though it wouldn’t be much of one.

“The-the truth is… The truth i-is I don’t even—I don’t even _know_ who I am,” Nireth admitted, finally.

Not that it was an easy admission for him to make, but there was some relief in finally breaking the flimsy secrecy he had tried to hold onto, albeit badly. Nireth wasn’t sure of much of anything anymore, all he knew was that he had no names to attach to the faces of the people he had seen in the dreams of his past life, even if he knew what their relationships were. He couldn’t even remember his own human name.

All he could see in his mind when he questioned himself about his identity were the gilded runes of the name Ros-Ni-Reth. In a way, it felt as if he had been bestowed an inheritance and that Nireth’s body and name were now his to do with as he chose. As bizarre as that might have seemed to him, it had a ring of truth to it.

Betnerr and Nilir looked at one another briefly, their smiles were bittersweet, but this little admission confirmed some painful truths to them. Still, it was a step in the right direction. Ironing out confusion now would thin out any painful incidents or misunderstandings that may have cropped up in the future between them.

“What happened in the Grave Flats, do you remember?” Betnerr prompted, in as gentle a tone as Nilir had used.

Nireth took a deep breath and looked up at the couple as he slowly gathered his thoughts and arranged them before him in a rather pathetic-looking line of missing events. He told what he could, what he felt safe to impart to them, but couldn’t bring himself to speak about Earth or his dreams and conjecture about being from a different world, omitting this information entirely from his account of events.

It was not a lie, but it was not the full story either, though it seemed satisfying enough to Betnerr and Nilir. They had questions, which Nireth answered for them as best he could, but there wasn’t much he could offer them as far as closure went. He had no idea what happened to Nireth’s original consciousness, all he could tell them was how he felt the name was now his, and how he felt like it was the only thing he could be sure of now. Even if he knew he had lived another life somewhere else, sometime else, under a different name, he was now Nireth through and through.

“Well then there’s no reason not to call _you_ Nireth,” Nilir decided with a nod.

“Mhm,” Betnerr agreed, warming his considerations towards the desperate young man they would still be calling Nireth.

The Nireth Betnerr knew was more vivacious and less a tree mouse, but that could have been due to the nerves this young man had about being in an unknown situation, where every memory was stripped away until nothing remained. It was difficult not to feel sympathetic or protective over someone in such an untenable position. Betnerr decided to lay his suspicions aside, clearly there was no ill intent here.

“I may know of someone who might be able to help with your memories,” Betner offered slowly.

Nilir glanced at his mate and rolled his eyes. “Voloth would eat him up.”

Betnerr’s grin was instantaneous at that notion, though he very much agreed with Nilir’s assessment. The rocky relationship between him and Voloth was still rough around the edges, and it didn’t help how much of a shite Voloth had been the last time they conversed with one another. Asking for a favour from him now would make the other dragon so insufferably smug, but if it helped them sort this out, then it would be well worth the spoonful of pride Betnerr would have to swallow to enlist Voloth’s assistance.

Nireth was slightly hesitant. He wasn’t sure he wanted anyone to know the full details of his dreams and the possible reality of his origins, but if there was a way for him to understand how it could have happened, maybe there would be some validation for his presence here. He was willing, but cautious about showing too much optimism.

“I’ll send him a missive at **white flameturn** ,” Betnerr decided with a nod.

He stifled a yawn that infected the other two with yawns of their own and Nireth suddenly felt like he was crushed beneath the weight of the world’s fatigue. So much mental gymnastics had occurred that he was ready to lay his head down on the very soft pillows at his back and just pass out. Nothing would sort itself out without effort, but he was so tired still and his body was still so weak, he needed to rest it so he could face more mild questioning later.

“I think we might go abed now. Nireth must also be quite exhausted,” Nilir murmured, getting up and taking the tray of empty dishes from Nireth’s bedside before he turned to leave.

“Um!”

Betnerr and Nilir paused by the drapes and turned back to look at Nireth, detained by his little outcry. Betnerr raised a brow in inquiry and Nilir blinked owlishly at Nireth.

“Um… Th-thank you. Really. Thank you both very very much,” he murmured in a wobbly tone of voice as a tear of tiredness and relief slowly rolled down one of his cheeks.

Both Betnerr and Nilir’s expressions softened completely as they felt a squeeze of affection in their hearts for him. It was still difficult not to see this man as the ghost of the Nireth they once loved, but he was still his own lovable character, that much was clear to them now. The old Nireth would never have cried arbitrarily like this, nor been quite as effusive and humble with gratitude.

 _‘He’s adorable,’_ Nilir commented.

 _‘Yes. Yes he is,’_ Betnerr agreed.

“Goodnight, Nireth,” they both said sweetly.

“Goodnight,” Nireth replied with a stifled yawn, finally smiling.

Almost as soon as they left, Nireth’s body relaxed against the mattress and pillows, and for the first time since he woke up in this strange land he felt safe and at peace. He didn’t know what sort of things waited for him when morning came, but at least he felt a lot better about facing them, especially with the help of his new acquaintances. On this last positive thought, Nireth closed his eyes and allowed himself to sink into restful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Dragonsight** : A dragon ability that can help them visually determine whether illusionary magic is being used.
> 
>  **Whirlpool Chamber** : Toilet. The abbreviation for this would be W.C. I only realised this later, and patted myself on the back for the accidental cleverness. 
> 
> **Fullspan** : 1 fullspan = 1 metre (3.3 ft)
> 
>  **Until the flame brightens** : Until the real facts (truth) come to light.
> 
>  **White Flameturn** : Equivalent to between 7:00 a.m. - 9:00 a.m. Earth time.


	5. Learning a Bit of Magic

How intriguing that Betnerr would feel desperate enough to summon him. The last time they parted had not been in the most amicable of ways, which did not encourage the continued fostering of ties. Betnerr tolerated him, perhaps even respected his power and the lineage of his flight, but the obstinate bronze commander was not too trusting when it came to obsidian dragons. Not that Mor-Vo-Loth could blame him, really. It was safer and wiser for Betnerr to sit in his shell and glare at him from within.

But here came a missive from the cautious glittery dragon, begging for his help in a matter that was quite intriguing. Ros-Ni-Reth, the little sliver of deliciousness that used to be Kat-Nei-Zerik’s bondmate was back from the Grave Flats, and he was very much alive and somewhat well. Voloth’s interest was ensnared by that last detail, gleaning that all was not as it should be with little Nireth, judging from Betnerr’s clumsy attempts at trying to be cleverly clandestine.

Just poke your pointy lance at your enemies, Bet, leave the proper shady work to those born to it, Voloth thought to himself with a fond chuckle. A soft moan reached Voloth from the shadowy nook of his lair’s sleeping area. He looked up from the scroll floating in mid-air in front of him and glanced towards the black gauzy drapes that separated the bed from the rest of the lair. Oh yes, before he could make any commitments for the day, there was _him_ to get rid of.

The obsidian draconid twirled his charcoal black finger in front of the scroll, making it roll itself up again, after which he stepped out from behind his ridiculously oversized desk and sauntered over towards the bedroom drapes. The scroll remained suspended in mid-air where he left it. Once he was standing at the drapes, Voloth reached a hand out and slid his fingers into the split in the diaphanous fabric to draw it aside.

While the residents of the Golden Heights seemed to value extravagance, most of which took the form of delicate and intricate loveliness, the same was not true of construction in the Cracked Nest. Voloth’s lair was mostly designed and furnished with elements that were geometric or linear and eschewed the softness of spherical shapes prevalent in the Golden Heights, in favour of strong and bold rectangles and squares. A theme which was used not only in the construction of the lair, but also the massive bed that was hidden behind the privacy drapes.

Following the same square footprint of the cavernous lair itself, the bed was the same shape and was fashioned out of a single block of magic-tempered black glass. Shards of obsidian extended out of the glass walls and formed shelves on either side of the bed, functioning as bedside tables. The sharp edges had been blunted, but the look of the place was still rather sleek and rugged. Voloth’s silver eyes roamed over the length of the bed, appreciating the sight of the naked man occupying it currently.

A smaller silver draconid lay on the bed in a tangled wrap of thin sheets. Voloth watched the draconid’s exposed mist grey thighs where they peeked out of the bottom of the sheets wrapped around his hips. A fine body, Voloth thought appreciatively to himself while licking the line of his pearl-white teeth with the tip of his long black tongue. The sleeping draconid moaned again, his silver eyebrows scrunching together in a slight frown before he repositioned himself and turned his head the other way on the pillows.

The change caused the sheets to lift and expose the full globes of the man’s rear and the bottom of his scrotal sac. Voloth purred, his bright eyes hooding with pleasure. The silver brother truly had a pretty arse, not too fat, but it was the sort of arse that had seen good use. Not that Voloth was surprised. Silver brothers used whatever means they could to barter with for a favour, and if they didn’t have much by way of wealth, then their bodies would do.

The sex had been good, but not exceptional, and now it was time for him to get out. Voloth coiled the drapes back onto the drapery hook on the canopy drape post, then leaned against the wall on the side the silver draconid was lying on, examining his face. Surly even in sleep, such a shame, he could have been beautiful if he only managed to pull out the stick he seemingly had wedged up his arse at all times. Except something else was wedged up his arse in that instance, and it was on the verge of spilling back out.

“HA-HEMM,” Voloth coughed loudly.

“Hnf!”

The silver draconid on the bed started and raised his head slowly, combing sleep and sex touseled hair back out of his face with his fingers. His surprise had relaxed his anus for half a breath, which lead to an accidental spurt of the thick semen his body had kept warm all night. As if made aware of its unsuitable looseness, the hole clamped back down tightly on the rest of the fluids it was holding in. Bleary sleepy blinks brought the room back into focus for the silver draconid, until Voloth’s familiar figure registered in his line of sight with clarity.

Almost immediately, Hi-Sharo-Lir’s expression darkened. Voloth’s black lips stretched into a smile that showed his pointed teeth. “ **Pinkturn is behind you, bright-eyes** ,” he declared amusedly.

Sharolir sat up gingerly, wincing at the soreness of his hole and the fullness of his stomach. Voloth’s eyes roamed over the smaller man’s body, admiring the tooth marks his bites had left on the pale grey skin from their tryst the night before. His gaze dipped down lower to further admire the small puffy bump of Sharolir’s semen-filled belly, the sight of which made Voloth produce another appreciative purr that rumbled deep in his chest. Sharolir followed Voloth’s gaze, then glared back up at the smug obsidian **falah-yod**.

“Regretfully, I am unable to entertain you any further today Sharolir. You’ll have to make your way out,” Voloth informed the silver draconid in a casual tone.

Sharolir’s mint green eyes narrowed, his lips turned down at the corners and he swiftly arranged the sheets over his body to block Voloth’s lingering gaze. “Can I borrow your bath?” he bit out.

“No,” Voloth replied airly.

Sharolir glared at Voloth, who was rather enjoying the silver dragon’s discomfiture, but didn’t make it immediately apparent. “Then might I use your whirlpool chamber,” Sharolir’s voice sounded as brittle as glass.

“Be quick,” Voloth acquiesced, “But leave the sheets on the bed.”

Sharolir’s ice-cold gaze locked with Voloth’s for a handful of sparks, until he finally cast the sheets away from himself to reveal his naked body. Voloth’s eyes immediately broke contact with Sharolir’s so that he could look at the exposed flesh and admire it openly. Sharolir’s jaw muscles jumped as he ground his teeth together and he attempted to make a hasty retreat by slithering off the bed awkwardly. His stomach was so full, he could feel the thick fluids squirting and swirling inside him when he moved. That Voloth-chenr knew it too, the **mav-yodni**.

“Stop,” Voloth commanded.

Sharolir stopped in mid-stride, glaring over his silver-touch spotted shoulder at the other man. Voloth approached him, the hem of his long velvet tunic brushing around his ankles as he walked. When Voloth reached the other man, a head shorter than he was, he forced Sharolir back against the wall—not caring whether he stumbled or not—and pinned the silver draconid’s hands up above his head with one of his own.

“What?” Sharolir hissed with a hostile snarl.

Voloth didn’t answer, instead he pressed his free hand to the silver dragon’s cool full belly, giving the puffy bump a generous slow stroke. Sharolir’s nostrils flared and he struggled to try and free his wrists from Voloth’s strong grip, succeeding only in getting the obsidian chenr to strengthen his hold. As if to punish the silver draconid, Voloth pushed the hand rubbing Sharolir’s belly down, squeezing the puffy resistance of his full stomach until the pressure forced all the semen back out.

A sinister smile lifted the corner of Voloth’s lips when Sharolir’s eyes widened then closed, a pale pink blush of shame suffusing his cheeks. The Sound of semen splattering on the floor was loud as it spilled out of Sharolir and flowed down his legs. This chenr-falah, Sharolir thought as he boiled with rage and directed all the heat of his anger into his gaze, raising it to stare daggers at the smirking Voloth. How _dare_ he.

“Doesn’t that feel better?” Voloth inquired in a soft whisper.

“Fuck you,” Sharolir spat out.

“You’ve already done that, darling. I was merely being helpful,” Voloth countered.

Sharolir wrenched his hands out of Voloth’s grip, but he would not have been able to get free had Voloth not allowed it in the first place. The obsidian dragon chuckled as he watched Sharolir waddling with evident disgust towards the whirlpool chamber, smacking the door shut behind him.

What a raging temper for someone so petite, Voloth mused to himself with humour in his eyes. He looked down at the pool of his own ejaculate on the floor. Sharolir may have had a stinging personality, but he was not without his talents. Voloth had to appreciate the fact that the little silver brother had managed to fit his generous girth into such a narrow body, and was even further impressed by Sharolir’s ability to contain a full load.

Looking back up into the lair, Voloth crooked his finger at a subtle shadowy figure that had been standing stationary in one of its corners. The figure looked like the shadow of a lanky draconid in appearance, though its form was a lot more nebulous and ethereal. When Voloth pointed at the stain on the floor the shadow figure immediately retrieved a bucket of magicked water and began to mop up the spillage.

Satisfied with his shadow familiar’s work, Voloth returned to his desk. The ridiculously-sized item of furniture was forged out of a solid piece of magic-tempered obsidian that had been shaped into blocky chunks, the largest of which was the pristine polished surface. Throwing himself into the padded throne-like chair beside it, Voloth once again used his finger to unfurl the scroll he had abandoned earlier, then continued to contemplate Betnerr’s request.

He had little else to do. Sharolir’s matter was a pleasant distraction, but it wouldn’t take much finesse to accomplish. Rather boring, if he was to be quite honest. Betnerr’s business smelled a lot more spicy to Voloth’s senses. He was also quite curious about the matter of Nireth’s return from the Grave Flats. According to what Voloth knew, only one other dragon had ever returned from the Grave Flats after going there to die, and they had perished shortly after returning to their home realm.

Very well, he would send a reply and not keep Betnerr on tenterhooks. Swiping his fingers down the front of the missive, the bronze letters that had been scribed on the paper by Betnerr disappeared entirely, leaving a blank space for Voloth to write his reply. With his index claw, Voloth began to compose his reply. As the tip of his claw touched the paper and scratched over it, it left behind black marks, as if he had dipped his claw in ink.

Voloth’s runes were sharp and exact, unlike Betnerr’s more decorative handwriting, but they had a beauty of their own; their simplicity left no room for messiness or errors in script. When he concluded his reply, Voloth signed his name, then rolled the scroll shut and placed a seal on it that only Betnerr would be able to break. The sealed scroll glowed brighter and brighter, then exploded into a flutter of feathers. The missive bird the scroll turned into flapped its wings hurriedly and soared out of the balcony of Voloth’s lair, presumably to make its way back to the Golden Heights.

Just as the missive bird flew off, the door to the whirlpool chamber banged open and Sharolir strode out after his ablutions, no longer sticky with Voloth’s semen. The silver draconid ignored the black-skinned man behind him to collect the bits and pieces of his **blooming robe** that had been discarded the previous night, then threw them up into the air where they floated in place. Sharolir then stood with his arms outstretched and snapped his fingers. The items of clothing immediately swirled around him and clothed him in proper fashion.

Voloth admired the process from where he sat, watching as the silk garments hugged Sharolir’s narrow body and wrapped him up in flattering lines. The robe flared in a wide circle at the neckline, falling off the shoulders and partway down the back, revealing Sharolir’s silver-touch; the attractive shimmering spots of his breed that splashed over his shoulders and down his back in a pattern unique to him. A length of stiff silk wound its way around Sharolir’s waist, knotting itself into a decorative shape at the back, just below the dip of the robe’s neckline.

It was truly beautiful, Voloth couldn’t disdain that about Sharolir’s taste. The pale green robe with its silver, white and grey accents was just gorgeous on him, especially the way he wore it off-the-shoulder as he did. Once the clothing was fitted properly, Sharolir turned to look at Voloth with a cool glance, his graceful fingers smoothing down the front of his immaculate blooming robe.

“The matter we discussed?” he asked with one brow arched upwards in inquiry.

“Next month,” Voloth replied smoothly.

Sharolir didn’t like that, judging by the way he pursed his lips and looked away, but he didn’t complain openly. He might have been a conniving little thing, but thankfully not stupid. Sharolir stepped into his toed foot coverings, then slid on the lacquered clogs he’d arrived in, clicking his way smartly towards the wide balcony of Voloth’s lair. Without a backwards glance or any further discussion, Sharolir shifted into his dragon form, shook his scales out, then waited for Voloth to rip open a spatial tear for him.

Though he wanted to tease Sharolir a little more, Voloth didn’t succumb to his playful impulses. He offered Sharolir a more graceful exit than the one the silver dragon had attempted to make when getting out of bed. The spatial rift Voloth tore open for his guest yawned several fullspans wide in the middle of the balcony, like a large scar of black void that Sharolir stepped into confidently. The rift would take Sharolir directly back to the Diamond Tundra, thereby shaking Voloth’s mane free of the demanding silver dragon.

With Sharolir gone, Voloth curled his fingers into a fist at the rift, and in response to this motion the spatial tear sewed its gaping ‘mouth’ back together again, leaving the balcony just as it was before. Now then, a trip to the Golden Heights, hm? He couldn’t very well go there empty-handed, especially when he had been the antagonising party the last time he’d had harsh words with Betnerr. A short shopping spree, then, to pick up a peace offering or two. After that, a visit to the the Golden Heights.

☙✿❧

Nireth awoke to the sounds of lovemaking. In matters of sex he may not have had first-hand experience, but the porn industry had made him more than familiar with the types of gasps and moans one would normally associate with sex. Wow, Betnerr and Nilir sure didn’t miss the opportunity to go at it, did they? He mused awkwardly, staring up at the darkened canopy of drapes above the bed. Just as he suspected the previous night, light streamed in from the balcony and scattered beams across the bed drapes, illuminating them with pinkish-gold streaks. It really was quite beautiful.

He tried to distract himself with the beauty of morning, but other parts of him were very concerned with the activities taking place one bed over from his. Okay, so, the thing about there not being any doors or walls or actual bedrooms? That was kind of, embarrassing? He wasn’t really upset about it, but at the same time he couldn’t ignore it either, but he had already interrupted them once before (twice before, though he was unaware of the first time), it would be quite presumptuous of him to interrupt again, especially when they were very much in the midst of their passions.

So he made every effort not to hear them, covering his head with pillows and duvet alike and thinking unsexy thoughts, but there was no helping the effect it had on him. Thick and throbbing, Nireth’s cock was done being ignored. It had been ignored for a long time, since before Nireth’s rebirth, and as far as it was concerned, it wanted to be lovingly stroked. His balls had a similar idea, and an odd thickness in his belly was just as worked up about being aroused. Fuck’s sake… He wasn’t obsessed with sex, but ever since he woke up here it was like he wanted to fuck everything he saw.

With a very soft sigh muffled under the covers, Nireth stroked a hand down his front, suddenly made aware of how sensitive his skin really was to the touch. A breath huffed out of his nose when his fingertips met the hot flesh of his stiff cock. Just the slight brush of contact made him shudder against the mattress and warmed the triangle of his pubic region with tingles. To his left, a high-pitched moan ignited his own desire all of a sudden and a thick spurt of precum erupted out of the tip of his formerly repressed organ.

Nireth thought he’d ejaculated prematurely, but a glance down at the stiff body part showed him nothing but the thick bubbling of clear fluids fountaining out of the tip. Whoa… That surely was a whole lotta precum. Concern flickered in the depths of his eyes for a moment, until he swept his thumb over the sensitive glans of his cock and nearly cried out himself. He felt that contact almost ten times more than what he remembered it used to feel like. So good that he curled his toes, causing the claws on their tips to extend slightly.

Shaking from head to curled toes, Nireth cupped his free hand over his gasping lips and closed his eyes. Another swipe of his thumb over the top of his cock summoned out more slippery clear fluids. He was going to get the bed wet, he realised in a daze, struggling to get up on his elbows. His arms felt like noodles, honestly. He couldn’t support his own weight, as slight as it was, so he just lay back, spread his thighs and tried to be quick.

Nireth may have had a modest package, but it was so delightfully sensitive that it didn’t take him very long to work himself up to a point where his cock was pulsing eagerly. Eventually, being under the duvet was stifling enough that Nireth had to unfurl it from his overheating body and the humidity of his panted breaths, throwing one leg over it when he folded it back. The squelching noises of him massaging his liberally lubricated cock matched perfectly with the slapping wetness of Betnerr and Nilir’s lovemaking, but Nireth couldn’t hear them anymore, he was writhing in his own sexual pleasure.

Everything around him became a sensation aiding his approaching climax. The sheets on the bed rubbed at his sensitised skin, the fingers of his free hand immediately slid down to stroke over a stiffened golden nipple, and that was what did it, really. When he pinched the flesh of his hardened nipple it was like a stream of electricity travelled down through his stomach and crackled just over his genitals. Nireth gave a small yelp then arched into the mattress and felt his cock pulse in his grip.

He had only touched the one, but the frisson of pleasure ignited by the caress to his nipple radiated across his chest, dipped in a hot streak straight down to just behind his balls, and rose up into his mind like a starburst firework. Every one of his limbs shivered when he came. Thick streaks of semen shot up out the tip of his cock, which would have shocked him quite badly had his brain not been wholly paralysed by pleasure.

There was no protective barrier between his cock’s generous emissions and the helpless bedding, nor the innocent drapes with their lovely morning light glow. Nireth finally felt the latter splashes of warm fluid against his stomach and chest, then lay perfectly still in the bed trying to get his breath back. A part of him knew instinctively that this was the first time a self-made orgasm had been this good for him, he was almost a hundred percent sure of this. It was the first thought that occurred to him once rational thinking became possible for him again.

And then, disaster. Bleary-eyed and doubly weakened by his climax, Nireth glanced down at himself, expecting to see a little mess of semen on his body, but the reality was rather a little more shocking than that. There were streaks of white fluid on his legs and the duvet, one of which had splattered across his right thigh and onto the floor. The curtains closest to him had a comical cummy smiley-face painted on them, which was now beginning to look a bit droopy seeing as the semen had run a bit. And this was merely the first half!

Nireth’s balls were entirely bathed in his own fluids, pooling rather uncomfortably between his legs onto the mattress linens, and his stomach and chest were sticky with the stuff. The pleasure he was still feeling the warm tingles of rapidly cooled into blocks of ice in his stomach. He was like a useless floppy noodle when he tried to struggle and get up, only making the mess little worse as he panicked. This was not happening. He did not just come buckets all over Betnerr and Nilir’s nice bedding, he was not going to be found sitting in a puddle of his own cum.

But that was exactly what happened. While Nireth struggled to try and do something about his accidental mess, the privacy curtain around his bed was pulled back and a cheerful sexually-satisfied Betnerr opened his mouth to greet Nireth, only to be presented with the sight of the young man blinking owlishly at him with a rather generous amount of semen spilling off his front into his own lap. Betnerr’s expression froze for a handful of sparks, about the same amount of time it took for Nireth to do his best impression of a tomato, and then the bronze draconid could no longer contain himself.

Great guffaws of laughter roared out of Betnerr despite his best efforts, leaving Nireth to helplessly hang his head in abject shame. This was not how he pictured the start of his day was going to go, and yet there he was, covered in his own tidal wave of cum, looking like he was the star of an underground **bukkake video**. And Betnerr had seen him in it too.

“L-look, I-I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to just, oh jeez, it’s in my hair, it’s everywhere!” Nireth exclaimed in dismay, grimly becoming aware of other places he was wet and sticky.

Getting something of a grip on his humour, Betnerr dried his leaking eyes with his knuckles, struggling for breath. It was just as well that he was about to offer Nireth a quick trip to the hot springs for a bath, he’d _have_ to go now looking like _that_. Clearly poor little Nireth had not retained very much information when it came to his biological functions, otherwise he would have contained his outpouring of pleasure with magic. At least that was advisable for a dragon when it was a solo act.

“What’re you whooping at?” Nilir’s voice could be heard just beyond the curtains.

Oh god no, Nireth thought with dismay, but it was too late, Nilir held up the other side of the drapes and his scowl of curiosity immediately changed to an expression that Nireth imagined he might have worn if he was trying to keep a frog in his mouth. Nilir found it beyond amusing to see Nireth in such a compromising state, but he did a much better job of keeping his composure than Betnerr had. Inhaling sharply through the nose, Nilir looked at his mate and gave him a backhanded tap on the arm.

“Well don’t just leave him in his own juices,” Nilir chastised.

Don’t call them juices, Nireth groaned internally, about to cup his face in his hands when he noted at the last second that one of his hands was heavily covered in said juices. All he could do was to keep his head bowed and to repeat his muttered apologies to Nilir.

“It’s all right, Nireth love, it happens,” Nilir comforted with sympathy.

Betnerr was still rumbling with laughter when he approached Nireth and picked up the rather sticky young man to carry him out to the patio. Betnerr didn’t particularly seem to care that they were both naked, so Nireth didn’t pay it much mind, he was still stewing in his pot of shame anyhow, even though his carer was telling him it was all right.

It was the first time Nireth could get a gander at the place properly, distracting his embarrassed thoughts by examining the lair and the patio the back of the lair opened onto with much interest. The construction of the lair itself reminded him a little bit of a discus, especially because of its perfectly round and lenticular shape. It hung off the edge of a white cliff studded with shrubberies, clinging vines, ferns and stunted lithophytes.

The front of the lair opened onto a rounded terrace with an overhanging roof, which in turn was suspended in mid-air and overlooked the rest of the scenic lovers’ getaway, while the back of the lair was anchored onto the plateau that housed the garden areas of the patio and the private hot spring. Nireth hadn’t seen the garden, nor the lush and vibrant landscaping someone had painstakingly maintained there. It delighted him immensely and was a great distraction when Betnerr carried him through, pausing briefly to let him admire the flora, organic shapes and curving pathways of the architecture.

Eventually they came to a washing area not far from the hot spring, where a little stone spout poured warm water into a pool large enough to fit several draconids comfortably. The edges of the pool were constructed out of flattened and rounded rocks, which was precisely where Betnerr placed Nireth with extra care, before he very gently began to scoop bubbles of the warm water up out of the pool to pop them against Nireth’s sticky skin and get him rinsed off.

Nireth felt rather silly being washed by Betnerr, but he definitely didn’t know how to do that with the water so that he’d be able to wash himself. The dismay and disappointment must have been evident in his expression, because Betnerr soon stopped his helpful ministrations and sat beside Nireth on a stone of his own. He was smiling, but no longer having a laugh at Nireth’s expense, and held his hand out over the pool of water palm facing down.

“Nireth, do as I’m doing,” Betnerr instructed, showing Nireth how to hold his hand.

With interest blooming in his eyes, Nireth turned towards the water and mimicked Betnerr’s motion. Nodding, Betnerr then looked at the water and the subtle shimmer of his claws became evident to Nireth, before a ball of water slowly began to form, sucked upwards and hovering under Betnerr’s palm. He turned his hand once the water ball was formed, and held it in place, swishing it left and right to make it wobble.

“All you have to do is think about the water leaving the pool, lifting upwards, and forming into a bubble you can work with in your hand. Give it a go,” Betnerr explained.

Okay, sounded simple enough. Nireth stared at the pool of water, a little wrinkle forming between his golden eyebrows as he concentrated about water going up. And boy did it go up. Almost immediately upon thinking it, Nireth felt a flash of light going off in his mind, a sudden glow in those shimmering golden spiderwebs Virfal had shown him how to use. The spout of water he called up shot into the sky then rained down on them in a light drizzle. Betnerr was simultaneously delighted and amused.

“A bit too much power there, little brother,” he chuckled out, giving Nireth an approving shake of the shoulder. “Try again, softer. Think... More round, less up.”

Nodding, with excitement glittering in his upturned eyes, Nireth tried again. Just like Betnerr had instructed, he imagined more of a dome shape to his thoughts and less of a spout. True enough, he felt something warm spread out from his claws and tug from within his palm. There was a little spark of heat in his forehead, just a tiny bit, as if he had pressed a coin slightly warmed in the sun against his skin. Water fluted upwards in a gentle spiral and collected in a ball against his palm rather obediently.

Nireth happily turned his palm over, feeling and watching the gleam of magical power emanating from his claws and hands, holding the water in place. He found that even if he pressed the ball of water to his skin, unless he ‘released’ it with his mind, it retained its bubble form. With a bright and dazzling smile directed at Betnerr, Nireth pointed the water ball at the other man, then popped it against Betnerr’s chest.

“Ha!” Betnerr voiced with a laugh, quite astonished at Nireth’s quick grasp and the powerful display of his control. His former friend never used to be that good at this type of magic. “Well done,” Betnerr encouraged, a touch of pride shining through in his expression and voice.

“That’s really neat!” Nireth exclaimed happily.

Betnerr’s brow quirked and he cocked his head to the side. “Contrarily, I would have thought that it’s rather messy?”

“Oh uh, neat is… I meant it as like saying, interesting, or-or wonderful,” Nireth explained hurriedly, looking down into the pool of water quickly to try again and avoid extrapolating on his choice of words.

“Mhm,” Betnerr replied, but didn’t push.

Clearly Nireth still had some **blemishes beneath his scales** , but Betnerr wasn’t going to pry. If Nireth wanted to tell, he would in his own time. Instead, the bronze draconid played a game with him, splashing him with a water bubble in retaliation for that last attack. Nireth gasped, then responded with a grin that lit up his eyes, and threw another water ‘bomb’ at Betnerr. They carried on for a while more, laughing and bombarding one another with water balls until they and the flagstones around the bathing pool were soaked with water.

“I yield! I yield!” Betnerr surrendered dramatically, placing his hand against his breast and pretending to stagger under the weight of Nireth’s assault.

“That was for laughing at me,” Nireth announced superciliously, then blushed and looked down at his own wet lap.

Betnerr’s smile was doting when he looked at the young man dripping water everywhere. He scratched at his nose then glanced up at the bright pallid sky. “You know, the trick with the water? It can also be used to, ah, contain other ‘spillages’.”

Nireth’s head snapped up and he fixed a wide-eyed look on Betnerr. Okay, he didn’t think of that, but that kind of made sense. His smile was a touch bashful, but he nodded his understanding. Okay, next time, he was definitely using the cum-ball trick. Betnerr chuckled at the expression flitting across Nireth’s features, very much capable of imagining what was going through the young man’s head in that moment.

Following their water fight, Betnerr retrieved a few bottles of soapy liquids from the lair, along with a tray laden with breakfast for them that they could have at the pool after washing. Truth be told, Nireth rather enjoyed it when Betnerr pampered him and shampooed his hair for him, he didn’t mind it at all. Neither did he shrink in on himself with bashfulness when Nilir joined them a while later to have a morning wash and soak, after seeing to the chores of washing Nireth’s soiled bedding and fixing breakfast for everyone.

Once they were all soaped up and rinsed, Betnerr and Nilir helped Nireth walk his way towards the hot spring, encouraging him to start using his muscles as early as possible. Though it was a painful process and rather tiring, Nireth was eager and determined to try and get mobile, and was very grateful for the presence of his helpers. Both Betnerr and Nilir were impressed by Nireth's tenacity, and were rather shocked by how much progress he made, but it would be a while yet before his atrophied muscles would be sufficiently strong enough to support his weight unaided.

Comfortably seated in the shallow end of the hot spring, his backside resting on the soft sandy bottom, Nireth gratefully received the breakfast Nilir had prepared for him. One bowl contained some sort of pulled sweet meat, and another was filled with sliced fruit, both of which Nireth partook of quite happily. The sweetened meat would give him energy and the necessary building blocks for the restoration of his muscles, while the fruit would aid in replenishing his body’s various mineral reserves.

“This is so good,” Nireth complimented happily, popping another bit of crunchy fruit into his mouth and wondering what kind it was. Sort of peppery, but sweet and grainy against the tongue. “What is this one?”

“Prickleberry,” Nilir explained, then pointed at another fruit that resembled a grape. “This one is a vinemallow, but you can also just call them mallows.”

“And this?” Nireth asked while sucking up the information like a sponge. He held up the bowl of pulled sweet meat, popping some into his mouth to chew on with his very efficient cutting teeth.

“The meat comes from maned grandles,” Nilir explained, combing the snags in Nireth’s hair out carefully with an ivory comb.

Nireth shook his head with a little frown. He had no idea what a grandle was, but he could understand that they were maned. At his look of confusion Nilir paused in his task a moment then extended a clawed fingertip in front of them in the air, describing the shape of a buffalo-like scaled creature. Where Nilir’s claw skated through the middle distance between them it left behind a trail of golden sparkles, until a perfect two-dimensional outline of the beast took shape. It began to move, trotting, galloping, lowing and knocking its horns against something, presumably what would have been another of its kind in a territorial display.

“Maned grandles come from the Tranquil Menagerie in the Tenebrous Gardens. Perhaps when your health improves we could take a trip there and you’d be able to see one,” Nilir suggested with a smile.

Nireth nodded enthusiastically at that idea while patting his little stuffed belly, giving it a rub beneath the water. Even though he couldn’t finish either bowl of food, he found everything to be just as delicious as the broth he’d had the previous night, and could only feel regretful that he was full so quickly.

“It’s only natural, Nireth love. You probably didn’t eat anything for nigh on a month,” Nilir murmured softly.

“I feel better today, though.”

Nilir smiled happily at that admission, though he didn’t need to be told that Nireth felt better, it was quite obvious just by looking at him that he was in better spirits. His positive attitude was rather infectious and before long Nireth was painting pictures in the air the same way Nilir had done, with a little bit of guidance from the older dragon. They both painted several innocent little illustrations at first, faces, animals, until of course the inevitable dick drawings had to be painted. These saw the both of them bursting into fits of giggles, especially when the painted sparkly dicks began to shoot off equally sparkly cum everywhere.

While the two golden beauties soaked, chatted, and were silly with one another, Betnerr went back up to the lair to compose the missive to request Voloth’s assistance. Even though Betnerr found it difficult to swallow his pride and ask for the obsidian dragon’s help, he knew that Voloth had an invaluable understanding of the forces between worlds and was privy to many secrets of the mind. If anyone could help them come to an understanding about Nireth’s circumstances, it was likely to be him.

He never expected to receive a reply so quickly, though. It was just after suppertime when the missive bird he had sent to find Voloth that morning fluttered back into the den area of the lair, where they were all sitting on the floor divans having a chat over some tea and light dessert. Betnerr extended his hand to the glowing bird and it immediately rustled into the shape of a sealed scroll. Without hesitation, Betnerr broke the seal, then used a finger to unfurl the scroll and scanned Voloth’s neatly-penned response.

“What does it say?” Nilir asked.

Betnerr rolled his eyes. “‘Seeing as you so eloquently begged for my assistance, I shall endeavour to make myself available. Though, as you know, my time is rather—’. Basically, he’s being a mav-yodni.”

“When’s he coming?” Nilir inquired with a soft groan of sympathy for his bondmate’s wounded pride.

Just as Nilir asked this question, a sudden crackle and snap of energies emanated from outside the lair. A spatial tear ripped itself open and gaped like a yawning star-studded black wound. Measuring just under forty fullspans in length, the tear almost filled the entire balcony. Betnerr and Nilir both shot up to their feet in surprise, while Nireth nearly dropped his tea in fright as the tear roared open and spat out a rather impressive obsidian dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Pinkturn (Pink Flameturn) is behind you, bright-eyes** : It’s about time you woke up.
> 
>  **Falah-yod** : Fuckface.
> 
>  **Mav-yodni** : Lit. Penis-head. Dickhead.
> 
>  **Blooming robe** : Heavily inspired by oiran kimono, Diamond Tundra blooming robes have a bit of a train of fabric at the back, furisode-style hanging sleeves, and are fastened with back-tied obi that can be tied in various knots.
> 
>  **Bukkake video** : If you're put off by seeing a person drowning in a sea of cum, you don't want to google this. Trust me.
> 
>  **Blemishes beneath the scales** : Skeletons in the closet.


	6. A Bond for Life

Up to this point Nireth had not seen anyone else in their full dragon form, except for Virfal, but that could hardly be used as an adequate comparison to Voloth’s majestic entrance. Virfal had been skinny, sunken and shrunken, and had lost all of his scales so that he appeared a lot smaller in size than what he should have looked like in his prime. Comparatively, Voloth was a behemoth, standing proudly with his massive head held high and his tail whipping back and forth behind him.

Like an oil slick, he was black from snout to tail, his scales gleaming in the mellow light of evening that shone down on them from the **sky-flame** suspended high above the lair. Sharp shard-like projections sprouted atop Voloth’s eye ridges in gradually increasing lengths, until they ended in long and pointed ebony horns that faced backwards at slanted angles; it almost looked like he was wearing a glass crown. His musculature was thick and robust, evidencing his physical might, and just as impressive were the enormous onyx claws tapping on the balcony tiles as he proceeded towards open front of the lair.

Nireth stared at him, at his completely overpowering presence and grandeur, feeling a squeezing sensation overcome his chest. Voloth’s long black mane was slightly wavy, almost resembling that of a Friesian horse, and it nearly brushed the ground where it was longest. So beautiful… The obsidian dragon folded his membranous wings, tucking them tight against his back, then collapsed in shape until all of him was condensed into his two-legged draconid form.

The feeling in Nireth’s chest intensified when his gaze locked with Voloth’s gorgeous silver eyes. They seemed to glitter and shine straight into him and Nireth just sat helplessly accepting the pressure of that stare, until it felt like he was yanked forward and spilled into Voloth’s eyes. Every part of his body heated up, especially his chest, the triangle of his hips and pubic area, the line of his spine and the space between his eyebrows.

Similarly, Voloth stood where he had stopped about two fullspans away from the den, his eyes flaring in shock when the heat of attraction overcame him completely. He too felt the same physical symptoms Nireth experienced, rushing mentally into the golden pools of his alluring eyes and sensing the squeezing tightness of his chest, then the all-consuming heat suffusing his body. The world around them suddenly fell away from their concerns and receded into the background.

At first, it was a small twinkle of light, a little scrawl of sparkling runic letters that unfurled in the blank darkness of Nireth’s mind. Mor-Vo-Loth. The name gleamed, then swirled into his very being, giving rise to a mutual mental connection. Suddenly, a kaleidoscope of imagery bathed Nireth’s mind, nearly overwhelming him with the sheer volume of memories he witnessed.

The faces and bodies of countless lovers and adversaries flashed into Nireth’s consciousness, joyful events, sorrowful moments, visions he couldn’t even begin to understand nor describe, but intrinsically he grasped that all of this, everything he witnessed and felt, it was all of it the essence of Voloth’s identity. Everything that Voloth was poured into Nireth’s body and mind. Voloth’s playfulness, his sinister humour, his aching loneliness, the ferocity of his indignation and anger at being denied love for centuries, and the softness of his innermost character. All the parts of him no one else were allowed to see or touch.

Nireth also felt the breach in his own privacy. A cool soothing flow of a presence poured into his mind whether he wanted it to or not, it swirled and swarmed his memories and thoughts entirely, stealing his secrets to leaf through them one at a time. There weren’t as many records in Nireth’s recollection as there had been in Voloth’s, but Nireth’s secrets were equally astonishing and overwhelming to the obsidian dragon. Nireth knew where Voloth was inside of him, just as he was certain Voloth knew of his presence in his own mind.

Nilir and Betnerr both looked on in astonishment when they felt the palpable distortion of energies emanating from the obsidian and golden draconids before them. The occurrence was shocking in more ways than one, but they remained where they stood and stared in silent wonder at Nireth and Voloth. The pair of them appeared locked in a battle of unwavering gazes, but Betnerr and Nilir immediately knew what it meant for them to be so engaged, particularly when a rune of light projected itself out of Nireth’s forehead and began to shine like a bright corona. A matching runic projection streamed out of the space between Voloth’s eyebrows, glowing just as intensely as Nireth’s.

Only then did Voloth begin to move again. Ignoring Betnerr and Nilir entirely as though in a trance, the much taller draconid approached Nireth where he sat on the divan, then knelt down in front of him so their eyes were level. Voloth then reached out his hand to press his palm against the centre of Nireth’s chest. Without hesitation, Nireth reached his own smaller hand up to press it against the slice of Voloth’s bare chest where it was framed in the V of his tunic’s plunging neckline, mimicking the dark-skinned man’s touch.

The glowing runes floating in front of their foreheads brightened even further, their claws sparkled, then a flood of illuminated warmth poured into their chests from each other’s palms. Nireth felt it bathing him and wrapping around him like a blanket warmed by a fire. Devotion, a sense of safety, and compassionate tenderness washed over him until he closed his eyes and felt the waves of gentle heat lapping inside of him. Voloth was there, in his mind, in his body, and he was in the other dragon’s.

Their consciousnesses swayed back and forth, almost like a dance, then parted gradually as they each receded back into themselves. When Nireth opened his eyes, he felt the palpitations of his heart throbbing against his ribs, and briefly wondered if the man with the beautiful silver eyes in front of him could hear it too. A soft smile lifted Voloth’s narrow lips at the corners and touched the depths of his shimmering gaze, he cupped the stunning little gold draconid’s face in his large hands, stroking his thumbs gently over Nireth’s well-defined cheekbones.

“So… You come to me at last,” Voloth murmured in a resonating rumble.

Nireth thought Betnerr’s speech had an attractive depth and richness to it, but Voloth’s voice made his balls ache with need and set his stomach atingle. A blush immediately crept across Nireth’s face and left his skin hot against Voloth’s cool fingers. He couldn’t look away from the attractive man’s silver eyes, drowning in their crystal clarity, as if he was bewitched by them. He may as well have been.

Nilir glanced sharply at Betnerr who was quite shocked to say the least, never expecting that Nireth would bond with the obsidian dragon whose attitude he could barely tolerate. Perhaps a part of them both still thought that it wouldn’t be possible for Nireth to bond again after Neizerik, but they had witnessed it with their own eyes and couldn’t deny what had just transpired. It should have been a special moment, but Nilir could tell by the look darkening Betnerr’s face that his mate didn’t quite seem uplifted by the event. If Nilir had to be honest, neither was he.

Nireth, on the other hand, wasn’t quite sure what just happened, except that he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Voloth was the only other person in the room who could tell that he was not originally of this world. He broke eye contact with the sinfully good-looking Voloth soon after, not wanting to lean away from him, but feeling that he was too close at the same time. Nireth then looked up towards Betnerr, trying to enlist the other man’s assistance somehow, but was shocked to see the scowl of displeasure on Betnerr’s face.

Did he do something wrong? Was he not supposed to have done whatever it was he had done? He didn’t understand. Voloth followed Nireth’s gaze to look up at Betnerr, catching the stormy look on the bronze draconid’s features. The softness in Voloth’s eyes hardened, he inclined his head in greeting at both Betnerr and Nilir, then quite deliberately and meaningfully sank down to sit thigh-to-thigh beside Nireth on the divan.

Betnerr’s scowl deepened, but Nilir stepped in and diffused his mate’s displeasure with a soft pat to Betnerr’s shoulder, reminding him with a nod at Nireth’s disconcerted face that this sort of behaviour would worry the younger man. Betnerr immediately swallowed the bitterness down, almost believing that Voloth somehow orchestrated this whole theatrical display, however fantastical that notion might have been.

Betnerr knew that a lifebond could not be fabricated nor forced, it was an occurrence that fostered very little understanding and was shrouded in much mystery, which was the case ever since the first dragons came into being, or so the stories told. Voloth couldn’t have planned this any more than he could have commanded a wild animal to shit on cue, but it didn’t mean Betnerr had to like it. He didn’t, in fact.

“I realise our last parting was rather frosty, but I had thought there would be a bit more of a welcome, particularly as you asked for my aid?” Voloth commented as he curled an arm around Nireth’s shoulders and looked pointedly at Betnerr.

Nireth felt a flutter in his stomach when he was cuddled against Voloth’s side, both happy and appalled at being pawed at by a virtual stranger, but mostly concerned about Betnerr’s expression. The bronze draconid battled furiously with the sudden urge he felt rising in his gut encouraging him to punch Voloth in his smug-looking face, but managed to control himself and plastered on a very strained smile instead. Nireth was like a little **clutch-brother** to him, it was difficult for Betnerr to swallow Voloth’s forward behaviour when he thought it would bring nothing but trouble to the younger dragon.

“Forgive us. We didn’t expect you to cause such a dramatic entrance, forging nothing short of a life-bond with our friend so swiftly upon your arrival. You’ll understand the delay in greeting, I’m sure,” Betnerr supplied in a crisp tone.

Betnerr glared at Voloth, while the other draconid simply curled his fingers into the soft waves of Nireth’s hair, coiling a long blond strand of it around one of them. Look at him stew, Voloth thought with lazy amusement, after adroitly triggering Betnerr’s protective older brother instincts. Not that it took much effort. Voloth would never have attempted it with the dead Nireth, but this new Nireth had supplied him amply with all the information he needed to confidently and quite assuredly assert himself as a thorn in Betnerr’s scales.

Nilir turned a rather cool expression towards Voloth, inclining his head in greeting similar to the action he had perfunctorily received from the other dragon. “Mor-Vo-Loth.”

“Don’t stand on ceremony Sif-Ni-Lir,” Voloth invited with a small smile.

“Very well. Would you mind not doing that to Nireth? You’re bothering him I’m sure,” Nilir pointed out, addressing Voloth’s very forward manner with the smaller man sitting beside him.

Voloth glanced down at Nireth, who had been staring up at his strong jawline with rapt fascination. When he was spotted, the little golden sweetling blushed bright and looked back down into his own lap. Voloth felt a tingle in his slumbering sex organs, then tilted Nireth’s chin up on his finger so that he would be forced to look up into his gaze.

“Do you wish me to stop?” he asked the sweet blushing little thing directly.

Put on the spot like that, Nireth froze. Did he want Voloth to stop? A part of him did, the part that was worried about why Betnerr and Nilir suddenly sounded so unhappy, thinking that it was somehow rude behaviour to accept Voloth’s attention, or as a result of whatever he had experienced with Voloth earlier. On the other hand, Nireth wanted nothing more than to crawl into Voloth’s lap and just stare into his eyes all evening if he could, if the other man would but let him. Something told him that Voloth would be more than happy to let him.

“N-no, it’s okay, I-I’m fine,” he replied softly, hardly managing to get the words out.

Voloth’s smile lifted, making him look like a very satisfied lizard, a look he smugly lifted to brandish against both Betnerr and Nilir. Defeated, Nilir hid his embarrassment by grabbing the now empty teapot from the centre of the divan table and heading towards the kitchen area with it. Betnerr sank very slowly back into a seated position opposite them, watching every movement of Voloth’s hands on Nireth.

The little man receiving everyone’s scrutiny at that moment was desperate to ask questions about what just happened, hearing words like ‘life-bond’ being tossed around gave him a slight chill. A word like that carried some very heavy and serious connotations, connotations Nireth wasn’t so sure he was prepared to carry at the moment, but even as he felt nervous, the claws that suddenly began to scratch and scrape gently over his scalp made his eyelids droop halfway in sudden pleasure.

“Mor-Vo-Loth, this is Ros-Ni-Reth,” Betnerr introduced in a rigid tone.

“Yes, I know,” Voloth drawled out with a languid nod, looking at Betnerr like he was an idiot.

“Nireth, this is—”

“Voloth,” Nireth declared, before Betnerr could finish. He looked up at Voloth again, locking gazes with him for a handful of sparks. “He told me.”

“Well isn’t that nice? Everyone knows everyone,” Betnerr voiced quite acerbically.

“Did Sif-Ni-Lir forget to drop honey in your tea this afternoon?” Voloth inquired of Betnerr in a sarcastic tone.

Nireth frowned. The incident that had exploded between him and Voloth might have flown over his head still, but he could tell quite clearly that Voloth was antagonising Betnerr. Not just with his words, there was a manner to the way he was behaving that was purposefully being hurtful towards one of his newly-forged friends. There may have been history here that Nireth was not a party to, but he definitely did not like the way this conversation was going. He reached up and curled his fingers around two of Voloth’s to tug the black-skinned hand off his scalp.

Voloth’s smug expression melted and he glanced down at the golden dragon seated next to him. He didn’t expect someone so mousy to fight against his manipulations, not that they had a sinister design against Nireth specifically, but he immediately felt the shimmer of indignation emanating from Nireth’s consciousness, so close to his own still. So there was a hidden fire underneath the seemingly meek exterior, making Nireth all the more desirable to him.

“Don’t talk to Betnerr like that,” Nireth mumbled under his breath.

Voloth’s eyebrows rose, his chest filled with a bubble of warmth at the sight of the petulant look suddenly infusing Nireth’s expression. Well, no one else had managed to move him into feeling any measure of chagrin over his misbehaviour in the past, then along comes this little golden impostor, and suddenly Voloth felt a tickle of self-criticism.

“My apologies, Nireth,” Voloth murmured softly, close to one of Nireth’s flushed pink ears.

“Not me. Him,” Nireth instructed, thrusting his chin up and looking into Voloth’s eyes with a determined frown marring his fine features.

Oh I could eat you right up you little drop of treacle, Voloth thought darkly in his mind, but turned his face towards Betnerr nonetheless and inclined his head in silent apology to the other dragon, much to Betnerr’s surprise. Voloth never apologised, not genuinely, not to anyone. Ever. Even Nilir was gobsmacked in the kitchen, though he masked his emotions a little better than his mate did when the matter didn’t involve any talk concerning ruby dragons.

Satisfied with the exchange, Nireth relaxed beside Voloth and glanced at Betnerr’s astonished expression, liking this one a bit more than the bronze draconid’s former hostility. Clearly Betnerr and Voloth didn’t get along, so it must have been quite the ask for him to request Voloth’s assistance. Once again, Nireth was overwhelmed by the lengths these former strangers had gone to in order to care for him, for someone they didn’t _really_ know.

There was a moment of awkward silence that passed between the three of them, which was interrupted briefly by Nilir bringing over a pot of fresh tea and pouring some for each of them, before he sat down beside his mate, picked up his cup and took a sip. Once more, Voloth began to play with Nireth’s hair, examining the parts of Nireth he could freely look upon while in polite company, still quite heavily impacted by what had transpired but a handful of flickerspast.

Voloth took careful note of Nireth’s features, his adorable curved celestial nose, not quite upturned at the bottom, but petite and well-balanced. The obsidian draconid’s gaze then dropped a smidge lower to admire Nireth’s upper lip, following its graceful upward sweep as it rose in a bowless arc that presented itself as a terribly sumptuous temptation, almost as succulent as his full and lush lower lip. Together they formed a subtle pout that seemed cushiony soft.

A neat pointed jaw, very delicate-boned and smooth, following back up towards pronounced cheekbones that created shadows in the hollows of his cheeks. Voloth could tell that the young man’s face would fill-out a tad more, given time and proper weight gain, but the slight gauntness detracted very little from Nireth’s gorgeous large eyes.

They were shaped in a subtle dip towards the nose and an upturned flick at the corners, framed with thick golden lashes that measured a full **knuckle** in length. His fine eyebrows started at a lower point above the bridge of his nose, then curved upwards and back down neatly towards the winged upslant of the corners of his eyes, creating an alluring look that gave him a near constant sultry expression.

It was a canvas of pleasing aesthetics that Voloth could hardly ignore, and as beautiful as Sharolir had been with the haughty quality to his looks, Nireth completely smashed Sharolir’s attractiveness to pieces with his own. Voloth knew how beautiful Nireth was, having met him once before, but the version of Nireth who now quietly sat at his side and gazed trustingly up at him with a guileless expression, was so much more arresting.

Voloth burned with the urge to kiss him, but held back for now. They would need to speak privately at length together, about kissing certainly, but more so about the fact that they had just formed an unbreakable bond with one another. Floating around in Nireth’s mind had shown Voloth just how naive he was about their world, and just how far removed from the realities of the realms former Nireth’s human mind was, it therefore necessitated some explanation.

Hopefully, after sorting things out between Betnerr and himself, this much-needed private moment would take place. Until then, Voloth stole many glances, played with Nireth’s silky soft hair, and admired his companion’s bare shoulders with thinly-veiled hunger. The shift Nireth had borrowed from Nilir was very flattering on him, though a bit big on his malnourished frame, it had a cut that accentuated his petite figure rather well. The layers of almost sheer white fabric was also quite provocative.

“Nireth’s memories and recollections are quite sound, but they are not the recollections of a dragon,” Voloth spoke up after sipping at his tea for a moment and basking in the awkward silence that followed.

Nireth looked up at Voloth sharply, at the same time digging the claws of his left hand into the man’s knee through his tunic, silencing him immediately. It wasn’t the prickle of pain really, so much as Nireth’s sudden look of absolute fear that stopped him. Voloth’s expression softened with understanding. Truly, he knew the reasons for Nireth’s distress, but keeping this large of a secret from these two would only bring everyone involved more anguish.

Betnerr and Nilir both looked up with interest evident in their keen expressions. “What do you mean?”

Voloth canted his head slightly while looking into Nireth’s eyes. “Nireth, I think it ought to come from you.”

Nireth didn’t think he would be called out like this, not so quickly, but when he returned Voloth’s gaze and felt the radiance of his comforting presence beside him, something about it made his fears thaw a little at a time until he could face Betnerr and Nilir. The truth came out, haltingly at first, then with just enough detail that they would understand that his world was impossibly different and unfathomably distant to this one, and that he was in fact a person with no recollection of the former Nireth’s sense of culture or knowledge.

These implications immediately swirled within Betnerr’s mind, whipping away what little thread of hope he might have held onto that Nireth’s presence might still have dwelled within a corner of the current Nireth’s consciousness. He linked his hand with Nilir’s for silent comfort, feeling the hot prickle of tears in his eyes. His old friend was truly gone, there was no question about it now, not when Voloth explained the parts Nireth struggled to clarify himself.

The former Nireth had left his body behind, somehow bequeathing his guise to this sweet and quiet young man instead, who had suffered a great upheaval of his own, only to find himself waking in a strange place with no memories of what happened. Betnerr did not shed his tears, choosing to swallow them back down instead, though Nilir shed his own for the both of them.

Even if his former friend had perished, this young man before him, this unpracticed and vulnerable dragon absolutely _needed_ protection, especially when he was so unschooled in information vital to his wellbeing. Betnerr wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if the inheritor of Nireth’s will were to come to harm, no matter the origins of his mind or spirit. The bronze draconid glared across the table at Voloth and Nireth with such intensity, that for a moment Nireth thought he was angry.

“It doesn’t matter to me at all where he comes from, or who he might have been once before. I will still commit my friendship, my vows of brotherhood, and the strength of my lance to Nireth’s continued happiness and safety,” he announced in a firm tone.

Nilir touched his fingers to his own tears and nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly with his mate’s sentiments, the same emotions strongly reflected in his own watery eyes. Voloth studied the pair of them with a slow expulsion of breath out of his mouth. They didn’t understand that there was a fundamental problem here. The sentimental conviction on their behalf was so cloyingly sweet and nice, but it wasn’t going to help Nireth at all.

They lacked the knowledge that would help them understand exactly how deep the trench of Nireth’s ignorance went, how much information he lacked about this world, and just how frightened he was of all the things he didn’t know. Even if they understood Nireth’s needs fully, both Betnerr and Nilir were bound hand and foot to their heavy societal obligations and had little time to themselves, let alone a juvenile dragon who needed to be reared almost like a hatchling all over again.

“That’s very noble of you Betnerr, Sif-Ni-Lir, but how do you propose to care for Nireth?” he prompted.

“How d’you mean?” Betnerr asked with a scowl.

“He will need lots of support and education,” Voloth began slowly, as if speaking to irate animals.

“Which we’ve already provided some measure of,” Nilir supplied defensively, thrusting his chin up with blazing pride shining in his eyes.

Voloth almost felt a headache coming on. These two were as dense as slag when they pooled their stubbornness together. He would have to explain it so that they would understand just how much of a gulf needed to be filled. At his side, Nireth opened his mouth to try and offer his own opinion on the subject matter, his expression a little scowl of distress, but Voloth consciously spoke over his attempt to join in the conversation.

“You are the Commander of the Bronze Phalanx, and Sif-Ni-Lir is a dedicated senior rookery guardian,” Voloth pointed out.

“Yes, we know who we are, Voloth, thank you very much,” Betnerr snapped irritably.

Another breath of contempt snorted out of Voloth’s nose. “Then use your idiot head and work out how much time you will actually have, once you return from your idyllic little holiday here, to set aside for Nireth’s care. Go on, I’m waiting.”

None of the three draconids gathered appreciated Voloth inferring that Betnerr was an idiot very much, but as his inference slowly dawned upon Betnerr, Nilir, and finally Nireth, their expressions softened and they sat in contemplative silence for a few sparks. There, now that people were actually using their faculties to think properly, Voloth relaxed his tensed shoulders and retrieved his cup for a calming draught of hot tea.

Of course. Everyone on Earth had a life, just because the last two days had been full of support and patience showered on Nireth, it didn’t mean that Betnerr and Nilir had so much time on their hands that they could take care of him indefinitely. Besides, he didn’t know them, not in the sense that they would have been immediate family, he was already imposing upon them greatly as things were. Suddenly Nireth’s world came crashing down around him and he sat with his head bowed, chewing on his lower lip nervously.

Seeing this change in Nireth, Betnerr hardened his expression. “We’ll manage,” he insisted.

Sensing his own mate’s sudden distress, Voloth loosely wrapped an arm around Nireth’s middle and offered him the comfort of a gentle hug, then turned his attention back to Betnerr. Clearly being civil and conscientious of other people’s feelings wasn’t going to work, the hot poker of reality needed to be taken out and brandished under his nose before Betnerr would consider the gaping holes in his capabilities as a dedicated carer.

“Think about it, Betnerr. Nireth knows no defensive or offensive magic, his ordeal has severely weakened him, leaving him in need of constant care and protection in the immediate future. Not only this, he knows nothing of the culture here, or the identities of the people Nireth’s former consciousness once knew. He doesn’t even have a lair anymore.”

“He would be more than welcome to stay with us!” Betnerr exclaimed, throwing his hands up at Voloth.

“And you would be there for him when he needed you, presumably around the clock, yes? The Commander of the Bronze Phalanx would put aside his lance to care for an ill friend all day and all night? And what of Sif-Ni-Lir? Would he be able to rinse his hands of his rookery duties and leave Bel-Ni-Dhor a helper short to assist in Nireth’s care?” Voloth countered.

“We could manage,” Betnerr hissed out stubbornly between gritted teeth.

“And when Nireth’s enemies come to call and you’re not around? What then?” Voloth pushed, watching Betnerr’s face darken in colour as his anger manifested more obviously.

Betnerr’s fist slammed down on the table as his frustration mounted, rattling the pretty crystal teapot’s lid and the matching teacups upon their saucers. At this point he thought Voloth was deliberately provoking him, and it was working quite well. For his part, Voloth sat silently with his lips pursed together and waited a moment, listening to the hissing of Betnerr’s agitated breathing as it huffed in and out of his flaring nostrils. Nireth nervously looked from one man to the next, opening his mouth to say something, but getting cut off again by Nilir this time.

“Since each of Betnerr’s solutions seem to be so disagreeable according to your superior assessment of the situation, what do you suggest we do, Mor-Vo-Loth?” Nilir interjected a touch sourly on Betnerr’s behalf, especially as it was swiftly becoming evident that his mate was getting more and more aggravated.

“I suggest that he accompany me back to the Cracked Nest,” Voloth offered calmly.

A lengthy silence followed, pregnant with crackling tension. Nireth’s worry was immediately replaced by shock and his eyes snapped back up to stare owlishly at Voloth’s handsome face. Voloth wanted to take him to somewhere called the Cracked Nest, not that the name inspired much confidence in him, but the mere suggestion suddenly warmed his insides, just as the one-armed hug had done. His brain immediately said _‘yes’_ in a happy little voice, but he nevertheless trembled with nervousness at the prospect of going anywhere with someone he had just met.

Betnerr and Nilir’s reactions were a little less shocked, but far less positive than Nireth’s. A snort of a sardonic laugh puffed out of Betnerr’s lips, they slanted upwards in a slight sneer of disbelief. Voloth had just claimed that he couldn’t keep Nireth safe, and now he placed this bold-faced suggestion on the table like a proper obsidian hypocrite. Well, he couldn’t expect a **dark-heart** to change their nature, could he? However, Voloth’s idea did manage to still Betnerr’s rage a little, bringing him back to his calmer senses. It was time for a counter-attack.

“Under whose protection?” Betnerr scoffed.

“As my mate he would be under mine,” Voloth voiced with careful enunciation.

“How in the Abyssal Rift d’you figure he would be safer with _you_? In the Cracked Nest of all places!” Betnerr raged, not even bothering to maintain his flimsy grip on civility now.

A great derisive snort echoed in Voloth’s nose and his sharp sneer pulled his lips back to menacingly display the top row of his sharp teeth and sizable fangs. “You’ll have to forgive me if _I_ don’t place too much trust in _your_ ability to keep _my_ mate protected. Remind me again Betnerr, how safe was Kat-Nei-Zerik under your watch?”

“Mor-Vo-Loth!” Nilir yelled in an outcry of dismay, finally truly incensed at his words. “That’s going too far!”

But it was already too late, Voloth’s barb sank in and bit into Betnerr’s old wounds over his former commander’s death, reopening them. The aggression in Betnerr’s eyes died until they appeared haunted by a deep-seeded pain. Voloth felt the twinge of a person who had stepped over the threshold of excess, regretting his words on the one hand, but glad that he had thought to use them on the other. This would ensure the final death throes of Betnerr’s obstinacy.

“Can everyone please stop talking about me like I’m not even here?” Nireth’s hitherto low voice broke into sweet and high clarity as he raised it to his normal speaking volume.

It may have been rude of him to speak in this manner to the people who had done nothing but offer him care and kindness, but it really bothered him that his life was being decided without his input at all thus far during the entirety of the discussion. Surely he had to have a say in whatever happened to him, whether that was to stay with Betnerr and Nilir, or go with Voloth, or even choose to be some vagabond without a home or a cent to his name. Did they even use currency here?

Unbelievable as it may seem, that last thought he had was the innocuous little spark which set Nireth’s true desires into motion. He had not proved himself to be a great speaker up to that point, but part of the reasons for that were his fears and lack of confidence in his current situation.

Voloth had offered him a bridge, however strong or possibly weak that bridge was, a greater part of Nireth wished to traverse it with enthusiasm. There were things he needed to know about this world in general, but there were also many complex little bits and pieces of the puzzle that he also needed to learn. Having a dedicated teacher would be most helpful in achieving that.

This is not to say that he wanted to sever ties with Betnerr and Nilir, far from it. Their budding friendships were quite precious things that Nireth wanted to preserve, but there was also another matter that they had not even acknowledged, and it stomped around in the background like an elephant in the room. Did they have elephants here? Another question he asked himself, that only strengthened the crazy idea taking shape in his head. Nireth licked his full lips and looked up at Betnerr and Nilir with a slightly troubled expression.

“I think it’d be a good idea for me to talk to Voloth alone for a little bit,” he suggested quietly.

Betnerr and Nilir had both sucked their lips in when Nireth raised his voice to interrupt the mounting argument, now they looked between one another like children who had snuck cookies before their dinner when they weren’t supposed to. The look of chagrin was infectious to all around the table, save for Voloth, who was suddenly in very high spirits.

“Sorry, Nireth,” Nilir spoke up first with an apologetic smile. “We didn’t mean to be so forceful without your permission. Please don’t take it badly.”

Nireth’s eyes glistened with warmth and his lips lifted to show that he wasn’t holding onto any sort of bitter emotions. It almost felt like Betnerr and Nilir were suddenly concerned about offending him enough that he would be chased away. “Would it be okay for us to borrow the garden a little? It’s so nice out there.”

Nilir stole a glance of Betnerr out the corner of his eyes, watching how his mate’s shoulders slumped and how his whole mannerisms appeared defeated. It was up to him to be the gracious one now. Voloth’s poison was potent, Nilir would not forgive him soon for the earlier statement that had lanced his beloved’s heart and wounded him so, but Nireth deserved time and privacy to come to terms with his own freshly-forged bond. Right now, that was so much more important than wounded feelings.

“Of course, Nireth. I think that’s a good idea,” Nilir confirmed with an encouraging smile and a nod.

Barely waiting for Nilir’s response, Voloth shifted from his position to elegantly tuck the long slitted tunic he was wearing between his legs, before folding his thick arms around Nireth’s slight figure. It felt as natural as breathing for him to lift the little man against his body, tucking his strong arms beneath the curve of Nireth’s shapely rear. Nireth sucked in a soft breath, his gaze flicked up so that he looked up into Voloth’s and he was suddenly lost in the depths of his bonded’s silver eyes once more.

Betnerr glanced up at the pair of them then tore his eyes away with an embittered little expression. It was too late, he could tell just by looking at them, Voloth and Nireth were now completely **lost in each other’s light**. He hoped to the infinite reaches of the void that Voloth would realise how precious a thing it was that he was courting. He held his tongue for now, soothing his frayed emotions with Nilir’s comforting voice and soft placating words, and watched the two smouldering embers of a budding love walk out onto the patio, one carried in the arms of the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Sky-flame** : A ball of illuminating magical flame suspended in the sky of each realm.
> 
>  **Clutch-brother** : A sibling.
> 
>  **Knuckle** : 2 cm (0.8 in).
> 
>  **Dark-heart** : A deceitful person.
> 
>  **Lost in each other's light** : Head over heels for one another.


	7. Confessions in the Garden

The grassy patch they sat in was bordered by night-blooming flower beds, playing host to the soft glow of nocturnal bioluminescent insects that came out when the sky-flame overhead dimmed. These little evening visitors floated and fluttered languidly to and fro, skimming around the couple sharing a round seating puff in the garden together. A collection of wan mage bulbs floating here and there in the garden around them offered soft diffused lighting, just enough to shed a warm gleam on night-darkened skin.

They sat in silence for a while, both of them contemplating the circumstances that brought them out into the sweet-smelling garden in the first place. Voloth fought with his urges, controlling his mounting desire to caress and fondle the man seated so close beside him, feeling an all-encompassing need to claim him. He also found it exceptionally difficult to look away from his bonded, now that they were alone enough that they could enjoy one another’s company without judgmental scowls.

Nireth sat at his side, looking up at him in silent wonder, his own thoughts expanding away from the immediate problems of his existence and delving into the emotions dredged up by this man’s presence. It was odd how he felt as though they had known one another forever, and yet logically Nireth knew that they had only just met. He was fascinated, attracted to Voloth beyond question, but he felt as though a part of that was inevitable because of Voloth’s arresting looks.

It was difficult for him not to stare at Voloth’s exceptional physique as he purported himself in this form. It was exactly the type of body Nireth found to be sexually appealing in his former life. Broad muscular shoulders with strong arms leading to large and gentle hands, and a thick chest that narrowed down to a trim waist. The rest of him was somewhat shrouded in mystery by his tunic, but the slits up the sides of the clothing offered flashes of Voloth’s thick thighs and well-defined calves.

As to his facial features, they didn’t disappoint either, and only made Nireth feel even more drawn to him. Voloth had a strong square jaw, a straight and very slightly hooked nose, expressive lips, and beautiful almond-shaped eyes that looked like quicksilver in the darkness when they caught the light. The charcoal hue of his skin was an added bonus, giving Voloth an exotic look that appealed to Nireth, especially when they sat so close beside one another and their skin met, highlighting the contrast between them.

Perhaps he could be forgiven for such shameless ogling, given that Voloth did nothing to mask his own heated interest. Nireth’s eyes found Voloth’s again and stayed fixed upon his gaze, a soft and inviting smile curling his lips upward. Even if he had a million years to try and explain the feelings Voloth ignited in his mind, body and soul, Nireth wouldn’t be able to find a place from which to begin.

“What was that, back there?” he asked, enlisting Voloth’s help to try and figure it out.

“A lot of arguing, not much progress,” Voloth answered with a grin of his own.

Nireth’s eyebrows rose, his smile brightened with amusement, but he shook his head. “No, before that.”

“Ah,” Voloth knew what Nireth meant, but teasing him made the most interesting things happen to his comely face. “That.”

“Yeah, that,” Nireth affirmed, turning a little more so he could look up at Voloth a bit easier.

For his part, Voloth admired the waves of Nireth’s golden hair falling around his shoulders and down his back, and the way it gleamed in the light of the mage bulbs, thinking he had never seen something quite so pretty before. He reached out his fingers to coil a soft strand around them, bringing the silky lock up to his lips. It smelled like flowers and something more, perhaps the sweetness of honey almost. No, raw nectar. It was so obvious now, and only grew stronger the more he inhaled Nireth’s unique body scent.

“You know how Betnerr and Nilir are joined, yes?” Voloth prompted.

Nireth watched Voloth play with his hair and felt a burst of heat manifesting between his legs. For some reason, Voloth playing with his hair was okay, more than okay, he actually liked it. Nireth nodded his head a bit at the question Voloth posed him, he knew that Betnerr and Nilir were an item, that much was very plainly obvious, but were they officially joined like a married couple?

Nireth voiced his inner musings aloud, “Are they married?”

“Hm,” Voloth made an amused noise in his nose. “A life-bond is far more profound than agreements penned on paper, nor is it as easily broken.”

Nireth’s smile was replaced by a frown that formed a little wrinkle between his eyebrows. Life-bond, there it was again. The word had a finality about it that seemed to brook no argument. Something significant had taken place between them earlier and made it so that he knew Voloth’s past, could sense his presence and a whisper of his emotions at all times, if this was the result of a life-bond then Nireth wanted to know everything he could about it before he could consider accepting it or not.

“Then are we—Is that what happened between us? Is that what Betnerr and Nilir are? Was that what Neizerik was to the original Nireth?”

Voloth touched a large black finger to Nireth’s lips, quieting the sudden deluge of questions his comment had summoned forth. Oh my, they _are_ soft, the obsidian dragon thought to himself of Nireth’s lips. His finger lingered, tracing the graceful curve of Nireth’s upper lip, then pulled back.

The touch was nice, even though it had been uninvited Nireth didn’t shrink back from it. There had never been a moment in his former life that he could recall allowing someone to touch him so intimately, on the contrary close contact of this nature would have made him freak out. Nireth’s gaze dropped to Voloth’s retreating hand, which he suddenly caught with his own, threading his delicate fingers between Voloth’s until they were linked together. He didn’t know why he did it, but was instantly glad that he did.

“We are bonded,” Voloth confirmed, feeling warmth suffusing his chest when Nireth linked his much smaller hand with his own.

“How does that even happen?” Nireth whispered.

Voloth shrugged his shoulders, evidencing his lack of knowledge on this particular point of life-bonds. “It just does, Nireth.”

“Well that isn’t super cryptic at all. Okay then, how does it _work_? Are we dating now? Just—bam—just  like that?” Nireth insisted, still trying to figure things out.

Voloth’s laughter was a deep resonant sound in the back of his throat, so rich and full that it was contagious and made Nireth smile on impulse. He liked the sound of Voloth’s laughter, just as Voloth enjoyed the way Nireth’s eyes lit up like stars when he smiled at him. The obsidian dragon cupped the side of Nireth’s face with his free hand, stroking his fingers down the smooth skin slowly, marveling at its softness.

“The more important question to ask would be, do you desire to court me?” Voloth corrected in a gentle tone.

Nireth felt a light flutter in his heart. He had never been with another guy before, not in the dating sense, not even to casually fool around. The reasons against him initiating contact with anyone else were tied to fears and anxieties of his deepest and darkest secret being discovered, but that no longer mattered now. Nireth didn’t have any ties here, nor any pressure placed on him to conform to some accepted standard of normalcy.

If anything, seeing just how natural Betnerr and Nilir were with one another, how their intimacy was just a part of their daily lives, Nireth had become more relaxed about his own sexuality. Their openly romantic and sexual behaviour towards one another shed quite a bit of light on how that kind of relationship seemed to be perceived, and how normal it appeared to be in this world for males to engage in intimacy with one another sans any judgment.

Voloth’s own forward caresses and approving warmth when Nireth responded to them also gave him enough confidence to just enjoy the attention, instead of fearing it. Knowing this, Nireth was sure that he would be free to do what he wanted without fear of reprisals, so if he went out on a limb and took a chance on finally pursuing a relationship with another man, he could. But there was just one little thing holding him back still; Nireth wondered if Voloth, who was someone with quite a lot of experience, would be put off by his lack of it.

“I… I-I think so,” Nireth stammered shyly, squeezing the hand linked with his, “I think I do, b-but…”

“But?” Voloth prompted, perhaps a bit over-eager, given that Nireth seemed to be agreeable to a romantic association with him.

“I still have questions that I want to ask before I decide,” Nireth ventured cautiously, looking up at Voloth through his lashes.

“You can ask me anything,” Voloth insisted.

“Really? Anything?” Nireth asked with a grin.

“Anything you like.”

“What’s your favourite colour, then?”

Nireth started by choosing something rather innocuous and safe, even though the questions he really wanted to ask were a lot more personal, and a little less fun. Having looked into the obsidian dragon’s memories, there were some things that concerned him greatly, particularly if he was meant to enter a much more meaningful and intimate relationship with Voloth. Trust would be difficult for him to cultivate between them if the foundation of Voloth’s character was truly as wobbly as it initially seemed to Nireth, but he would give the man the benefit of the doubt for now.

“Gold,” Voloth answered, without a hint of hesitation.

Nireth giggled, delighting Voloth with the trilling sound of his laughter, before he said, “Oh yeah? Since when’s gold been your favourite colour, huh?”

“Since the first time I looked into your spectacular eyes,” Voloth complimented in a husky murmur.

He didn’t believe Voloth, not even for a spark, but it made him glow nonetheless. No one had ever flirted with him before, or complimented him in the same vein Voloth was doing now. Nireth had never experienced the uplifting sensation someone felt when a person they were attracted to turned around and said they were just as pretty or beautiful. It was a unique form of happiness that painted colour onto Nireth’s cheeks and left his heart feeling like it had grown butterfly wings all over.

Voloth lifted Nireth’s chin up on the edge of a finger and smiled warmly at him. Nireth felt his cheeks growing hotter, the mischievous grin on his lips from earlier devolved to an odd little smile of awkwardness. Did Voloth think he would be swept away by such an obvious line? Nireth’s emotional defense mechanisms kicked in, immediately shooing away the fluttery butterfly sensation in his chest. Voloth was smooth, but Nireth felt a trickle of nervousness all the same.

Voloth noticed the dark shadow moving across Nireth’s features which had tarnished his smile, and asked, “You take issue with my words?”

“I just… I think it’s funny that a guy with eyes as amazing as yours, would think that mine are spectacular.”

“You like my eyes, do you?” Voloth rumbled.

That was the problem, he liked Voloth’s eyes too much, just bearing the weight of their intense shimmering stare made him feel stimulated in places hidden by the breezy shift he was wearing. They had the potential to trick Nireth into agreeing to anything, he had to constantly remind himself that there was a certain way of doing things, especially when it came to starting a relationship, he couldn’t get swept away like this. Nireth wasn’t even sure yet what he wanted to happen between them, even though all the prerequisite emotions and desires were present.

Suddenly, the unbidden memory of a sexually charged Voloth powerfully mounting a smaller silver-haired man sizzled in Nireth’s brain, igniting desire in his loins, but also raising his wariness to new heights. Nireth tore his inner sight away from the borrowed memory and promptly slammed down on the romance brakes. He was far from being a prude, nor did he expect a person to have limited exposure to sexual activity, but a prolific sexual appetite had its own connotations.

“Did you think Sharolir’s eyes were spectacular too?” Nireth asked then, his glance appearing a little sharper and the warmth in his expression cooling slightly.

They had shared their memories, it was par for the course that Nireth would be privy to who Voloth had been intimate with. There had been _many_ other dragons besides Sharolir that had shared Voloth’s bed, for Nireth to feel threatened by them was natural, but it surprised Voloth that he seemed to feel so strongly about it already. The fact that Nireth _did_ feel threatened wasn’t necessarily a negative; it showed him that Nireth was interested in him enough to feel territorial. That was an intoxicatingly delicious detail.

“Who?” Voloth asked back, his eyes hooding and his smile curling up in an almost sinister fashion.

Nireth opened his mouth to point out that Voloth’s attempt at obfuscation just simply wasn’t going to work, until it slowly occurred to Nireth that the obsidian dragon was being purposefully facetious. A small flare of pleasure flickered in Nireth’s mind, shocking him at the same time. He didn’t think of himself as vindictive, but knowing that Voloth would throw Sharolir’s memory away so easily like that was pretty satisfying. Then again, if Voloth was being so flippant about a former conquest, what assurances would Nireth have that the same wouldn’t happen to him?

As if reading Nireth’s thoughts, Voloth’s grin softened around the edges and he raised their linked hands so he could brush his lips against Nireth’s knuckles, then said, “Sharolir is not my bonded. My sleeping with him was never meant to be anything more than a mere business transaction. Things between you and I would be entirely different.”

“So this Sharolir doesn’t mean anything to you?” Nireth pressed.

“Nothing,” Voloth confirmed, dropping his smile to stare with piercing clarity into Nireth’s eyes.

There was no untruth in the look Voloth levelled at him, nor in the emotional waves that emanated off Voloth’s mind and entered Nireth’s. In the end the gold draconid was sufficiently satisfied that Voloth was being honest. It calmed Nireth’s concerns and stroked his wariness back into contentment.

Since he had now jumped into the serious questions, Nireth decided to remain on course, steering the boat of his fragile confidence along unknown waters as he haltingly admitted, “I haven’t dated—courted, a lot.”

“I know what dating means, Nireth,” Voloth said in a gentle tone, amusement evident in his eyes. “And I also know that you have not dated at all.”  
  
Nireth didn’t even realise it before, but Voloth immediately equated his use of the word dating with the word courting earlier on. Huh, that was kind of interesting. Unlike with Betnerr and Nilir, Nireth didn’t need to correct himself with Voloth, nor expound upon his Earth-based colloquialisms. Catching onto this phenomenon, Nireth’s considerations towards the larger man warmed even more and fostered in him a greater sense of acceptance.

That Voloth knew about his inexperience made things both easier and more embarrassing for Nireth. He remembered how much pressure there was in his former life to achieve some sort of rite of passage where sexual activities were concerned, everyone else around him were in relationships, his own family had remarked upon his lack of a girlfriend numerous times until it became a sore subject. It was hard for him to face the fact that he wanted a relationship, but was afraid of initiating one at the same time.

All these negative little memories filtered back to him the more he thought about the life he led before this one, about how little he actually knew about his own sexuality, and how frightening it was at one point to admit his preferences to himself. He didn’t have to feel that way now. Looking up into Voloth’s eyes, Nireth felt an acute yearning that overpowered his uncertainty and made him consider what it would be like to start a relationship with someone he already felt so drawn to.

“I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve kissed anyone,” Nireth admitted with embarrassment, feeling a need to confess his inexperience.

“Twice,” Voloth pointed out, mildly amused.

“One of those times doesn’t count, falling on top of someone does not a kiss make,” Nireth puffed out a laugh with the pathetic admission.

“What you mean to say is that you fear your lack of experience will colour my opinion of you negatively.”

Nireth looked down and nodded, not daring to maintain eye contact when he was afraid of what he might see in Voloth’s expression. Even though he was beating around the bush regarding the notion of being life-bonded with the other man, he wanted desperately for Voloth to approve of him, to like and desire him. Was that being hypocritical? It probably was, wasn’t it?

“Nireth, it’s now _my_ turn to ask _you_ a question,” Voloth whispered softly as he combed a strand of hair behind one of Nireth’s shell-like ears, “may I kiss you?”

“Why?” Nireth blurted out, suddenly panicking.

Voloth’s smile was gentle and softened the look in his eyes until they resembled moonlit pools, he said, “Because I think you need some encouragement.”

In all honesty, Nireth’s naivety in these matters only heightened how desirable he was in Voloth’s eyes. It was the blend of Nireth’s young adult body, which was already sexually ripe and had been opened before, and the genuine sense of virginal uncertainty of his psyche that presented a uniquely alluring quality. No one else would have retained such innocence, or been as endearingly nervous about their romantic desires.

Nireth studied Voloth’s face for a handful of sparks, while wondering how much of a disappointment a kiss from his own unpractised lips would be. He thought of himself as a number three kisser on a scale of one to ten, but Nireth was also his own worst critic. Ever since his memories began to return to him Nireth realised that they always seemed to be self-critical in some way. He had no evidence on which to base his observations, the only kiss he had experienced before was a new year’s kiss that was never meant to be taken seriously.

Just try it. What’s the worst that could happen? Oh, I don’t know, Voloth decides I’m not worth his time, revokes this life-bond thing, and then just saunters sexily out of my life forever. That would be bad. Why would it be bad? Well, because Nireth really didn’t want Voloth to reject him. Furthermore, Nireth really did want that kiss, even if it made him crazy nervous to think about.

As if sensing the blend of fear and excitement pumping through Nireth’s veins, Voloth’s expression remained gentle, but he took charge of the moment and curled a hand around Nireth’s flared hip to press it to his lower back. He tugged Nireth forward with tender care, until the smaller draconid rose onto his knees shakily, struggling to support his weight at first until he tipped against Voloth’s chest and into his lap. Not missing a beat, Voloth hugged the smaller man into a secure embrace to keep him from hurting himself.

Nireth felt his face heating up with a blush as he braced himself against Voloth’s chest, sensing the difference in their body temperature. While he was warm and radiated heat, Voloth was cool, even his fingertips felt pleasant on Nireth’s skin where they touched his arm to steady him. Thump, thump, went Voloth’s heart against Nireth’s palms, a strong heartbeat that seemed to throb all the way up his arms until it reached his own heart.

When Voloth pulled Nireth even closer against his hard chest, the act fostered an enthusiastic sense of approval in the smaller draconid, and he marvelled at the feeling the action evoked, as if the circle of Voloth’s arms was exactly where he belonged. The touch of Voloth’s fingers to his chin prompted Nireth to lift his bashful gaze until it met the other dragon’s, at which point Nireth lost himself in the crystalline beauty of Voloth’s eyes, but he was not the only man enchanted that evening; Voloth was ensorcelled by Nireth’s limpid stare.

It seemed as though time froze for them in that moment, even the nocturnal song of insects seemed to soften in anticipation. Where they touched, it was as though a residual glow of warmth was left behind. Nireth’s mind touched Voloth’s, something that was unique to their nascent connection with one another, an incredible sense of insight passed between them. Nireth could tell Voloth was attracted to him beyond measure, could feel his passions being restrained lest they rage out of control, and as a result his emotions were buoyed higher than they had ever been before.

Voloth leaned in closer, his eyelids closing halfway as he did. Nireth refused to close his own eyes as well, he wanted to see this moment, just as he wanted to feel it. With another subtle tilt of his head to grant Voloth the perfect kissing angle, Nireth eventually felt the brush of Voloth’s lips on his own, gentle at first, then pressing fully to his lips and mouth a spark or two later. A shock of pleasure radiated across Nireth’s face, ran up into his head then dashed all the way down his spine and into his stomach, until it eventually pooled between his legs.

The gold draconid gasped tenderly at the nibbles he earned from Voloth’s sharp teeth, becoming even weaker in his limbs at the sucking pressure on his bottom lip. Nireth made a soft noise in his nose when he felt the touch of a tongue flicking wetly against his lips seeking entry, his fingers curled around handfuls of Voloth’s tunic, as if to ground himself somehow before he opened his mouth in acquiescence. Voloth’s eyes flared slightly with pleasure, then closed as he cupped the back of Nireth’s head and deepened his exploration of his bonded’s mouth.

Nireth let him do whatever he wanted, finally unable to keep his eyes open any longer, as the faintest shimmer of runic light manifested upon both their foreheads for a handful of sparks. Nireth moaned when the other man’s tongue slipped into his mouth to taste him fully. His first official kiss, with tongue too, the young man thought to himself in complete drunken surrender. Nireth’s breaths came in hot little puffs between Voloth’s tongue tastings and rumbles of approval, then eked out of his nose when once again his lips were taken with more force.

Eventually Nireth was but a warm, moldable and quivering curve of flesh in Voloth’s arms, having surrendered completely to his kissing prowess. The look in the young draconid’s eyes was dazed and unfocused when he opened them again, his fingers shook where they held onto Voloth’s shoulders loosely, and his mouth responded in complete obedience to the dark-skinned draconid’s kiss. He may have thought of himself as a three, but Voloth was of the opinion that Nireth’s reciprocated soft-lipped kisses were completely off any measurable scale.

When Voloth finally broke the kiss and sat back to study Nireth’s expression, he was not at all disappointed by what he saw. The gold draconid had turned a delightful peach-pink colour all over. The thin strap of the shift Nireth was wearing had slipped off his smooth rounded shoulder, and left one stiff golden nipple exposed. The second of Nireth’s nipples stood in obvious stiff relief beneath the flimsy fabric keeping it hidden. The tempting sight drove Voloth to the limits of his control, enough that he decided to test the boundaries just a little and see where Nireth’s limits were.

Voloth flattened his palms against his bonded’s back to support his slight weight and keep him from falling, he then continued his onslaught and left a warm trail of kisses down Nireth’s chin, his neck, and the dip where his collar bones met. Dazed by his own blazing passion, Nireth allowed Voloth to continue as he in turn curled his fingers up over the other man's neck to bury them in his silky jet black hair. So soft, the strands just slid through the gaps between Nireth's fingers in thick tendrils, enticing him to grab handfuls of it until he eventually cupped the back of Voloth’s head.

Mmm, his bonded was truly born of flame beneath the surface of his meekness, Voloth thought, what an intoxicating sensuality Nireth was hiding inside. The sight of that exposed nipple proved far too tempting a lure for him, in the end Voloth couldn’t stop himself from teasing the stiff little bud of contracted skin. He closed his teeth around it and tugged until Nireth barked out a noise of shock and pulled on Voloth’s hair with a painful jerk.

“Ow,” Voloth complained mildly after his lips released the nipple with some reluctance.

The warm breath of Voloth’s chuckles fanned against the skin his tongue and teeth had made wet, driving an electric pulse of sexual stimulation into the space just behind Nireth’s balls. The length of Nireth’s hitherto tingling cock sprang into full stiffness as a result, rousing a sudden mild panic in him. As soon as he realised that he had pulled Voloth’s hair and felt the snap of pain he had inflicted on the obsidian draconid reverberate back into his own mind, Nireth’s blush darkened into one of embarrassment and he let go of the strands he held tightly in his fingers still.

“Voloth I’m-I’m sorry,” he whimpered out, his eyes beginning to fill with tears brought on by sudden emotional upheaval.

Voloth watched how Nireth’s expression jumped from complete sexual surrender to panicked spluttering nervousness and couldn’t help but smile. Nireth was so sweet and sincere, he definitely wouldn’t survive in the Cracked Nest without social training and protection. These two things Voloth was wholeheartedly committed to providing, because there was no question in his mind now that he couldn’t leave the Golden Heights without Nireth accompanying him.

While shushing the panicking young man, Voloth held Nireth against his chest and cuddled him into a hug in his lap, quite deliberately changing their positions so they were closer. His fingers threaded into Nireth’s hair while the gold draconid tucked himself neatly against Voloth’s chest, pressing a wet cheek to the bare skin framed by his tunic’s neckline. Nireth allowed himself to be comforted, listening to the calming thrum of Voloth’s heartbeat until his limbs relaxed and the intense ache in his balls began to wane.

They sat in silence for a while, Voloth enjoying Nireth’s little warm body against his own cooler one, combing the softness of his bonded’s hair to chase away lingering regrets. It was too soon for Nireth perhaps, too much at once, and even though Voloth was aching to consummate their bond, it wasn’t his intention to force Nireth into anything he didn’t wish to do.

“I would not ask you to do anything you are uncomfortable with, Nireth,” Voloth explained in a hushed whisper, before he pressed a kiss to the other man’s temple.

“I’m… So embarrassed,” Nireth’s wobbly voice admitted softly. He cupped his face in one of his hands and swallowed the sudden lump that rose to his throat. “Please don’t think that I don’t want to, I do, it’s just… I-I’m…”

Voloth felt the shame of Nireth’s psyche enter into his own mind, the little breathy murmurs of his doubts and the criticisms that floated up into his bonded’s consciousness manifested in his own. He may have thought that they were unfounded, but Voloth could understand why Nireth felt so self-conscious all of a sudden. He tilted Nireth’s head up so that he could look into the smaller man’s eyes and convey his sincerity properly.

“Whatever form you take, Nireth, you are perfection personified to me.” Voloth traced his knuckles over Nireth’s cheekbones, speaking softly, “You are my bonded, and I have been waiting for you for over seven hundred years. Now that you’re here, I can wait a little more.”

Voloth’s admission saw the return of the lump in Nireth’s throat. A handful of sparks passed before he could find his voice and speak, he whispered, “That long, huh?”

“That long,” Voloth replied, smiling.

Nireth fell quiet as the significance of that time frame became clearer to him. Over seven hundred years of Voloth’s loneliness, over seven hundred years of waiting. It almost seemed like an impossible amount of time, but Nireth had seen just how bitter and cynical it had made the dark-skinned draconid, just how jaded and removed from his own emotions he had become. This side of Voloth was unseen by many, and should have been considered a special privilege.

The tears that had collected earlier spilled out the corners of Nireth’s eyes as he wordlessly stared up into his bonded’s gaze, shaking his head in wonder. No one had ever made him feel like he was that important before, that precious, and that wanted. Voloth touched his fingers to the drops of salty moisture, gathering the fallen tears and licking them off Nireth's skin. A smile finally peaked through Nireth’s anguished expression when Voloth began to lap the point of his tongue directly against his skin, only stopping when the gold draconid began to giggle.

“There, that’s better,” Voloth murmured appreciatively. “You’re truly dazzling when you smile, and your laughter could put a musical chime to shame.”

“Stoooop,” Nireth whined out with a fresh blush darkening the tips of his ears.

“Noooo,” Voloth mimicked his tone.

Voloth’s deep chuckles accompanied Nireth’s higher-pitched laughter, lightening the mood and stealing away Nireth’s nervousness and trepidation. He realised in a short amount of time that he truly wanted to become more intimate with Voloth and spend more time with him. Something significant happened in his mind and body when they kissed and when Voloth licked his chest, a feeling Nireth couldn’t exactly put into words. A sense of rightness dominated every thought and sensation in his body, like he was always meant to do these things with Voloth.

“When I’m a little better,” Nireth began to say, smiling at Voloth with sultry bedroom eyes, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

“Is that a promise?” Voloth growled wickedly.

Nireth didn’t reply with words, instead he reached up to coil his thin arms around Voloth’s neck, bringing their faces level. Now that he had received an amazing crash course on how to kiss properly, Nireth didn’t hesitate to press his lips to Voloth’s, feeling the other man’s lips pulling back in a grin against his own. Their tongues met, coiled around one another, then danced into each other’s mouths in tandem until they were sharing breath. Time no longer existed for them as they slowly lost themselves in one another’s passionate embrace.


	8. Breaking Through Boundaries

Betnerr swirled the strong fermented beverage around in his crystal glass, gazing through its rich amber hue at the lair archway leading out to the garden. The hour was late, more than midway into **blue flameturn** , yet there still was no sign of Voloth and Nireth. Betnerr’s own bondmate had long since gone to lie abed at his insistence, though Nilir had been very reluctant to go Betnerr could tell that he was beyond exhausted and needed to sleep.

Thus Betnerr sat alone in his self-imposed vigil at the divan table, sipping his drink slowly, watching and fretting like a father waiting for his child to come home from a ball. He had half a mind to stride outside and find them, but Betnerr held himself back, given that Nireth probably would not have appreciated his meddling. Some might have criticised him for feeling so responsible for a practical stranger, but Betnerr couldn’t help himself.

Though Nilir had done much to soften the hurtful parting blows Voloth’s accusations had dealt him, Betnerr still sat and mulled over the memories the obsidian dragon’s words had summoned forth. Even though Betnerr didn’t want to admit any faults, Voloth’s criticisms had the ring of truth about them. When it really counted, he had failed in his capacity as protector. What right did he have to criticise Voloth’s protective abilities, when his had fallen short of the mark in the past? Did he have any confidence to claim he could do more than anyone else when it came to Nireth’s safety?

As much as it rankled, Voloth was right about more than one element of their disagreement this time around. Sighing heavily, Betnerr put his glass down and rubbed the prickling sensation plaguing his face with both of his hands. He was tired too, but he couldn’t bring himself to go to bed just yet. A part of him still needed to be certain that Nireth was all right and that Voloth had not forsaken all good judgment and just ravaged him already.

A little more than a few flickers later, the sound of soft shuffling footsteps reached the bronze draconid, which made his ears prick and his features sharpen as he latched his undivided attention onto the garden archway. Voloth soon stepped into the dimly-lit interior of the lair from the darkness of the garden, holding in his arms an unconscious Nireth. Immediately Betnerr thought the worst, his expression becoming stormy and his muscles coiling at the ready for action.

 _‘Calm yourself Lance Master, he’s only asleep. It has been a tiring day for all,’_ Voloth’s telepathic voice, smooth and sinuous, slithered into Betnerr’s mind.

The declaration soothed him, but Betnerr still watched Voloth like a **huntsbird** , until the dark draconid disappeared behind the privacy drapes of Nireth’s sleeping area. He emerged a few flickers later, smiling with smug satisfaction, his hands casually clasped at his waist. Voloth approached the divans and gracefully folded his legs beneath him as he took a seat opposite Betnerr, lifting his intelligent gaze towards the other draconid’s.

Without speaking a word Betnerr’s glance dropped to the carafe of **hemsin** on the table. He reached for it, tipped the delicate fluted neck of the carafe against a crystal tumbler decorated with flowers like his own, then filled it a knuckle away from the brim. When the glass was sufficiently filled, Betnerr slid it towards Voloth, who caught the glass against his palm and trained a surprised look on the other man. That was an unexpected gesture; dragons usually only drank with people they trusted.

 _‘So…’_ Betnerr’s telephatic voice trailed into Voloth’s mind.

Voloth glanced into the amber liquid in his glass, feeling a lick of self-criticism welling up in his breast regarding his earlier outburst. In truth, he didn’t disdain Betnerr his stubbornness, it was a part of his strength and lent him an admirable quality of perseverance that Voloth didn’t quite share. When he would have long given up, Betnerr would continue to chip away at impossible odds. It was perhaps an irksome quality when Voloth was on the defensive side of it, but if he had to pick an ally to rely on, he would have chosen the bronze dragon without hesitation,

 _‘I misspoke earlier,’_ Voloth admitted. He lifted the glass to his lips and sipped the hemsin, a look of surprised pleasure bloomed on his features as he admired the glass and its contents again. _‘This is very good hemsin.’_

 _‘I should have grown used to your thorns by now,’_ was Betnerr’s dry reply. He took another sip of his own hemsin and continued, _‘Evidently not.’_

 _‘Would you believe me if I told you that I was waylaid by a pair of spectacular golden eyes and lost my senses completely?’_ Voloth inquired, raising his eyebrows and smiling sardonically at the other. He rested the side of his jaw against his fist after propping his elbow on the table.

Betnerr’s snort seemed loud in the otherwise quiet lair, _‘Your humour’s as twisted as your spirit.’_

 _‘You’ve seen my spirit, have you?’_ Voloth jibed.

A colossal sigh escaped Betnerr and he combed his fingers back through his loose copper-brown hair, then said, _‘Please let’s not argue. It’s late, I’m tired.’_

Voloth’s expression softened and his gaze fell to study the bronze draconid’s glass, _‘Betnerr, you didn’t cause Kat-Nei-Zerik’s death. If anyone’s to blame for that mishap, it would be myself.’_

Betnerr looked up at the other draconid sharply, trying to find the pitfall laid out for him in what was just spoken, but the look Voloth gave him convinced Betnerr otherwise. It was a surprising admission on the obsidian dragon’s part to be sure. This was not the usual tirade they would engage in together, it felt strange and awkward, nor was Betnerr certain what to say as a result. A part of him agreed wholeheartedly with what Voloth said, but then the responsible leader within him refused to hand over the mantle of guilt so readily.

_‘You were under pressure from your flight, it couldn’t be helped. Much as I want to blame you for what happened, I cannot in good conscience let you be the convenient villain for me.’_

Those sentiments were what made Betnerr both a fool and a highly lovable ally, but in order to avoid a fresh argument Voloth simply filled his mouth with hemsin and drank it down slowly. They sat like that in silence for a few flickers, both enjoying their glasses of hemsin and mulling over their private thoughts, when Voloth suddenly brought something out of his sleeve and pressed it to the surface of the table, sliding it across towards Betnerr.

The little trinket resembled a mirror set into a highly decorative silver filigree frame, as thick as half a knuckle and just over a **fingerlength** in circumference, it was quite a hefty little thing. There was a dainty lever on one side, encrusted with a sapphire pearl, and the front of the ‘mirror’ was covered by two flaps that presumably opened when the lever was depressed. Betnerr examined the object with curiosity in his eyes, his anticipation slowly mounting as he reached for the object and lifted it up into his hands.

Immediately Betnerr could feel the thrum of powerful magicks contained within the casing, and as if to confirm his assessment a few runes began to glow on the decorative engraving covering the miniature portal. He didn’t know what it was at first, but then suddenly it came to him and Betnerr’s hands shook slightly from the excitement rushing through his body. He stared up at Voloth with wide eyes and shook his head slightly.

 _‘I thought you would need one for your campaign against the ruby flight and decided to make one for you as a peace offering on my part, but… There’s even more reason for you to have one now,’_ Voloth glanced towards the privacy drapes separating them from their sleeping mates.

Betnerr followed his gaze and the look on his face changed entirely from embattled to one of touched sentimentality. Rift keys were extremely rare, but for the fact that they were extremely expensive and very difficult to make. The idea that Voloth had made one for them, even before he knew of the great fortune that waited for him in the Golden Heights, spoke of his favourable view of their relations. It was Betnerr’s turn to feel a lick of chagrin as he gently stroked his thumbs over the precious gift.

 _‘I don’t know what to say, Voloth. This is…’_ his voice trailed off and he looked at the other draconid with a warm smile.

 _‘Yes, yes, all right. I am truly quite amazing, I know. Do you know how it works?’_ Voloth dismissed Betnerr’s emotional gushing with a wave of his hand and his usual blasé manner.

To avoid talking about their feelings and other such personal things, Voloth explained to Betnerr the simple mechanics of the key, urging him not to use it indoors lest the entire lair get sucked into a rift and leave them in quite the messy pickle. The key was a powerful tool that was too easily abused, which was why obsidian dragons didn’t hand them out willy nilly. Voloth impressed this fact repeatedly upon Betnerr, but the other draconid was far too pleased with his new toy to let something so trivial have any effect on him.

 _‘I trust that with this I now have at least earned some measure of your blessing to claim Nireth’s affections?’_ Voloth prompted eventually, when he grew weary of looking at Betnerr stroking and smiling at the rift key as if it was a pet missive bird.

Betnerr lost the smile, and when he looked at Voloth again his glance was sharper, but he didn’t look upset exactly. _‘He’s not an object for you to claim.’_

 _‘No, but you’ve dug your heels in, and I need you to realise that he will come with me whatever your feelings on the matter are,’_ Voloth said rather bluntly.

Betnerr looked down at the table and pursed his lips slightly before he looked back at Voloth. _‘He’s so helpless still, Voloth…’_

_‘I’m not whisking him away at pinkturn, Betnerr. He needs to be strong enough to shift and travel, and so perhaps we will stay a week more for him to regain the use of his limbs. I will take up your lease of this lair if the fee is too great for you.’_

Betnerr snorted and waved Voloth’s words off with his hand, he said, _‘Nonsense. You’re the guests. Nilir and I will extend the rental period on your behalf, it is the least we can offer, but it does gladden me to know that you are not without reason.’_

Voloth’s chuckles rose richly out of the depths of his chest and throat, _‘Betnerr, you’ll find me the most reasonable of all your acquaintances, you’re simply too stubborn to see it most days.’_

 _‘My left ball,’_ Betnerr scoffed, but his accompanying grin showed that he was in a jovial state of mind than otherwise.

They stayed up a while yet, drained the carafe of hemsin between themselves and spoke together of Nireth and what Voloth was anticipating in the immediate future for them both. Halfway into **grey flameturn** , when Betnerr felt his head buzzing with drink, he decided to turn in for the night and rose to stretch his stiffened limbs. With a dismissive backhanded wave and lazily spoken ‘goodnight’ at the other draconid, Betnerr made his way to the bed he shared with Nilir, slipped out of his clothing and snuggled in behind his beloved beneath the warm sheets.

As for Voloth, he made his way on silent slippered feet to the bed he intended to share with Nireth, held aside the muslin privacy drapes and stepped into the darkened little circle of space within. Even without light Voloth’s night sight was strong enough to pick out Nireth’s shape in the gloom, the soft contours of his facial features and the gleam of his gold-touch over a bare shoulder. The sight of his slumbering bondmate caused warmth to bloom in Voloth’s heart and softness to suffuse his features, both of which stole away the hard edge to his usual expressions.

Quietly, the obsidian draconid shucked his clothing, hung it up beside Nireth’s and slithered his way into bed beneath the covers. Nireth’s soft breaths hitched into a moan when Voloth’s naked body molded itself to the other man’s, the cooler touch instantly making him shiver, but he didn’t quite wake. The smaller draconid turned towards the source of coolness and threw a leg and an arm over Voloth’s body, much to the other’s amusement.

Voloth didn’t fall asleep immediately. Though he had purported himself with sly confidence all evening, he had not yet allowed himself his own moments of complete awe and wonder. Now, when there were no other witnesses to see the change in his demeanour, the obsidian dragon looked upon the beauteous face of his future beloved, his eyes shining with adoration and absolute surrender to the other half of his soul. Voloth curled his arms carefully around Nireth in a protective embrace, lay his head on the pillow in a comfortable position, then slowly drifted off to sleep.

☙✿❧

He dreamt. Not of strange lights floating in dark voids, nor a foreign world he had once been a part of, no. This time, his dreams ignited a fire inside of him that burned brightly like a sky-flame. There was heat and passion, a provocatively erotic display of black sinuous muscle moving against his paler slight body. lifting him to blinding heights of pleasure. In his dreams, Voloth’s lips sucked fire against his skin, then his obsidian lover plunged himself deep into Nireth’s body until he felt his insides throb.

Faster, deeper, until they seemed to melt into one another. Gasping, grunting, crying out and rutting against one another as if their lives depended on the exchange. It fired Nireth’s body both in dream and in reality, though he was yet oblivious to the stiff iron rod his cock had become as a result of his lurid fantasies. Someone else was keenly aware of it, however, and he lay still against the slighter draconid in the bed, simply admiring the stiff organ as it flushed a deep peach colour and began to pulse visibly.

Nireth sighed softly, then groaned, turning his overheating cheek into the cooler pillow. He was so hot, stiflingly so, but he didn’t want to give up the illusion of Voloth’s weight pressing him down into the mattress just yet. More, Nireth thought desperately, while his hips jerked slightly on the bed. Give me more, I want more. But the dream began to scatter and fade, much to his dismay, until he heard a very loud deep chuckle resonating against his ear, drawing him lazily into wakefulness.

 _‘What in the Nine Realms are you dreaming about, little Nireth?’_   Voloth’s rich voice whispered in Nireth’s mind with amused warmth.

Immediately Nireth’s body flooded with heat as he tried to blink himself awake. The dream lingered fresh in his memory, which served only to intensify his blush until he glowed like a golden peach beneath Voloth’s scrutiny. Scandalised by his own perverse lapse, Nireth reached between his legs to cover the sticky wetness of his excited sex, not realising that it was both redundant and futile to do so; Voloth had already gotten a good eyeful.

More than this, the obsidian draconid was stroking the skin of Nireth’s inner thigh in a very habitual manner. Nireth felt his cock responding to the touch enthusiastically. His mind was still sleep-muddled, but there was no mistaking the effect the touch had on him, nor the morning stiffy he had popped because of his sexy dreams. There was too much delight in him at the soft caresses for true affront to ever manifest, but he still felt it necessary to cling to reluctance, no matter how momentary that reluctance might be.

“I-I thought we were going to wait until I felt better,” Nireth eked out in a soft and embarrassed little whisper.

Voloth’s hand stopped just shy of Nireth’s protective ‘cup’, and his luminous silver gaze caught the gold draconid’s and pinned him in place with a heated stare. “That was before you tempted me so unabashedly with your morning lust,” Voloth rumbled quietly, resuming his caress a moment later.

Nireth shivered. It felt good being touched there, more than if he had done the same with his own hands, but he couldn’t help the little trickle of cool panic that washed up from the pit of his belly. Voloth’s large hand slid over his smaller ones, almost covering both of them entirely. The sheer size of the other man ignited a spark of excitement in Nireth and made his hands twitch, before he pulled them away slowly and with some small measure of reticence.

Searching Voloth’s silver gaze with his own, Nireth felt his heartbeat quicken, then sucked his lower lip between his teeth to stifle a moan when Voloth’s cool palm and fingers began to explore the fiery heat of his stiff cock. Should he stop this before it went too far? Nireth wondered nervously, but even as he asked himself this he knew deep down that it had already gotten too far at this point, especially when his body blossomed so prettily for the dark-skinned beauty lying next to him.

Voloth fondled him with care and great attention paid to any little noise he made. As unnerving and embarrassing as it was, Nireth couldn’t deny the waves of pleasure that washed over his hips and lower, succumbing to the resultant warmth that flushed throughout his limbs. He sought the silhouette of Voloth’s shape with his eyes, hesitantly holding his hand up, but not quite touching the man who would be his life-mate.

Voloth took Nireth’s hand in his own and tugged it closer, until the gold draconid touched him shyly and felt the hard muscles of his chest in a caress of his own. The touch struck a fresh spark against Nireth’s attraction, sending a thick surge of moisture out the tip of his cock. Voloth brought the clear sticky stuff up on the edge of his hand and sucked it into his mouth with a pleased rumble. Nireth swallowed a gush of saliva down as he watched Voloth taste him, then felt the vibration of Voloth’s growl against his palm and shivered with delight at both things.

Attractive strong men had always filled his fantasies, but were admired from a safe distance, that way his attraction couldn’t be given free reign to do as it pleased. No unbidden passion to embarrass him in front of others, no exposed feelings that would reveal to those in his former life what he really thought of as sexually appealing. Now he was inches away from a gorgeous man whom he perceived as beyond sexy, but found that he was still bound by fear of a past that could no longer catch up to him.

“You wish me to stop?” Voloth inquired softly, noting the shifting uncertainty in his bonded’s eyes.

Startled by the unexpected inquiry, Nireth looked up into Voloth’s eyes and his mouth hung open for a spark before he clicked it shut a moment later. Within the brief glimmer of time that followed, a colossal war sprang up in a glorious cacophony within the blond’s mind, waged between the factions of fear and passion. He had wanted to wait before, citing his health, but that was merely an excuse to delay confronting what Voloth made him feel and what he represented.

Nireth wasn’t sure how wise it would be to abandon his own restraint, but his body ached at the thought of Voloth revoking his attention. It was a quick and impulsive shake of the head later that Nireth finally succumbed to his more passionate side. Whether it followed that such a decision would be wise or not remained to be seen, but in that moment Nireth didn’t regret his choice.

The smile Voloth bathed him in made his acquiescence worth it, Nireth decided. He felt the touch of Voloth’s lips on his neck, which saw him shiver and sigh softly as he relaxed against the pillows again. A delicate moan rose out between Nireth’s lips when his lover gripped the stiff length of his cock more firmly, then began to lovingly stroke the silken skin.

No longer afraid to touch, Nireth reached out his hands and stroked his palms over Voloth’s strong arms, noting the shape and feel of his muscles and how they moved beneath his obsidian skin. They were not built the same, nor similarly pigmented, but for whatever reason the contrasts between them pleased Nireth enough that it made him wet again. Voloth rumbled once more at this and Nireth chanced a sleepy grin.

“Beautiful,” he heard Voloth say.

Nireth’s heart fluttered and he looked away, bashful about the compliment but immensely flattered all the same. Voloth would not have that. With much care, Nireth felt Voloth take hold of his chin to turn his head back that they may look into one another’s eyes again. Nireth felt liquid heat pouring down between his legs, engulfing his sex organs at the sight of his big, strong and dark lover.

“Right back at you,” Nireth heard himself say breathlessly.

“Is that a compliment, little one?” Voloth inquired with narrowed eyes and a predatory grin.

“It… It _might_ be,” Nireth countered with a touch of mischief in his glance, feeling out this whole flirting and teasing thing for himself.

Perhaps unwise to be cheeky when Voloth had a hold of his most sensitive parts, especially when he gave them a shocking little squeeze for Nireth’s mild impertinence. Nireth gasped and jerked on the bed, feeling the sensation of pleasure lancing its way throughout his body. Voloth’s chuckles chased after the initial rush, his amusement eventually muffled against Nireth’s lips when he ducked close for a kiss. This time Nireth wrapped his arms around Voloth’s neck without hesitation, pulling him in for deeper contact.

Remembering his dream, Nireth wanted to feel the weight of the bigger man on top of him, pushing him into the mattress, but Voloth’s arms kept a vexing distance between them. When their lips parted, swollen from the passionate kisses they shared, Nireth’s pout was more pronounced as a result and the expression earned him further warm amusement from his partner.

“You’re still weakened,” Voloth explained, placating Nireth with a nip to his ear that sent renewed shivers of pleasure throughout his body.

“ _Now_ you choose to respect what I said last night?” Nireth complained in a low whine.

Voloth couldn’t help laughing, but he rubbed the sting out of Nireth’s disappointment with a more intimate series of kisses. At first Voloth spread these sweet feathery kisses along Nireth’s chest, but they eventually lingered into sensual wet licks. Nireth’s pout swiftly melted off his face, replaced instead by open-mouthed gasps as Voloth’s teeth began to nip and nibble at sensitive golden nipples. More sensitive than Nireth recalled his nipples ever being in the past.

The dual assault on his chest and the generously weeping length of his cock stole all embarrassment and shame from Nireth, until he writhed, moaned and called Voloth’s name without a care who might have been listening beyond the curtains of their bed. It felt so, so good. Better than his imagination could conjure, better than his solitary efforts had yielded in the past, better than he ever thought was possible.

This revelation helped Nireth shed the multifaceted layers of his indecisiveness, until he was more than a willing body of heat beneath his lover, one that Voloth treated with utmost respect and care. The dark-skinned draconid used his mouth, his tongue, the dextrous tips of his fingers to pull from Nireth every passionate response the younger man had suppressed all of his former life. No lying to himself in this life, no painful restraint, no shame or unfair judgment or expectation, just pleasure and the right to feel it.

When Voloth’s lips closed around the tip of Nireth’s pulsing dark red sex Nireth barked out a noise that echoed in the lair around them. By then Nireth’s thighs were split open wide, offering Voloth access to whatever he wished to tease. The smaller man held handfuls of ebony hair within his fists, attempting to steady his nervous huffy breathing, but knew it was useless to try. Voloth sucked at the cherry nub of his cock and Nireth whimpered, writhing on the bed when a shock of pleasure crackled into being just behind his balls.

Then something spectacular happened. A long and wet tightness wound its way around Nireth’s stiff shaft like a corkscrew, wrapping him so snugly in its grip that he nearly spilled himself then and there. The motion of whatever it was stopped, giving Nireth a moment of respite to bring his balls back under control. Curious about the odd sensation, Nireth got up on his elbows with a dazed expression on his face, turning a searching gaze down towards his lover.

What he saw stole the breath out of his lungs completely. Voloth stared right back at him with sparkling silver eyes and an obvious grin lifting his lips. Yet it was not Voloth’s cheeky mischievous look that waylaid Nireth’s senses and made him throb with aching pleasure.

Nireth stared at the black corkscrew Voloth’s tongue made around his shaft, momentarily marveling at its length and how the very tip shimmered in subtle dark purple shades. The tongue wound its way snugly down the entire length of Nireth’s cock, with more of it to spare, while the very tip of it flicked lazily over Nireth’s balls. His shock and wonder were short-lived, especially when Voloth’s tongue began to massage him. Unable to keep himself quiet under such exacting care, Nireth threw his head back and gave voice to a series of thin and high-pitched moans.

Sexy _and_ talented. Holy fuck! He wanted to laugh, but what came out of his mouth instead was just nonsense and noise, expulsions of relief and pleasure that exploded out of his brimming heart. He wasn’t going to claim that he had great staying power, but in the face of an unexpectedly pleasurable onslaught such as this, perhaps Nireth could be forgiven the swift rush of his orgasm when it came upon him and left him squirming in utter defeat.

His blushing ears heard Voloth’s great big swallows when his lover drank down the sudden shots of his generous ejaculate, and that in itself added its own tingle of euphoric pleasure, accompanied by the general fluttering tickle of post-climax. Nireth sagged into the pillows and closed his eyes, breathing heavily and sensing the tremors shooting throughout his limbs. He felt like a puddle of half-melted jelly, he didn’t even bother with the pretense of modesty at this point, leaving his body on full display before his lover.

Voloth was thorough in cleaning him of every last lick of semen, and when he was done he crawled back up for a kiss. Nireth tasted himself on his lover’s tongue, shocked to discover that he tasted sweet and spicy, which was not the flavour he expected. It was embarrassingly delicious. Blushing harder, Nireth fished every bit of flavour out of Voloth’s mouth with his tongue, then lay back on the pillows when their lips parted and gifted his lover with a dazzling smile.

“You need to stop that,” Voloth growled out, burying his face in Nireth’s hair to inhale a great lungful of his lover’s scent.

“Huh?” Nireth asked in confusion.

“Smiling like that. You need to stop,” Voloth continued, his voice gruff and rumbling in his chest.

Nireth’s brain had to play catch-up to sensible conversation, but when it did his lips split into another smile and he giggled softly. “You like my smile, do ya?” he asked, sliding his hands over Voloth’s shoulders admiringly.

“Mmmf,” Voloth voiced, nipping Nireth’s neck and the jut of his delicate collar bones.

All traces of trepidation had left Nireth’s mind and body by then, enough that he could sigh softly and enjoy Voloth’s attention without nervousness or worry. They were bonded, this was natural, the way he felt around the other dragon needed no further consideration, especially not when he seemed to have the same effect on Voloth as the other had on him. Nireth felt the heat of Voloth’s erection where it pressed against his thigh, signalling his partner’s unquenched ardour.

“What have we here?” Nireth inquired impishly as he reached down to fondle Voloth’s length.

His fingers brushed the heated skin. He had barely managed to touch it when he felt Voloth’s fingers threading with his, jerking his hand away from the engorged sex. Nireth’s eyes flared wide in surprise at Voloth’s rejection of contact and hiss of breath. The larger draconid shook as he struggled to control the rush of desire coursing through his body at that innocuous little touch inflicted upon him.

“No,” Voloth shook his head, his expression pinched in a slight wince.

“But—” Nireth protested softly.

“No, sweet one,” Voloth huffed out again, planting a soft kiss against Nireth’s forehead.

“Why not?” Nireth asked with a look of nervous concern as doubts began to flood his mind again.

Voloth’s lips pulled back in a wry grin as he said, “Because I’ll want to bury myself inside you, and you’re not ready for that yet.”

Nireth’s cheeks went deep peach again and he choked awkwardly on the words that became lodged in his throat as a result of that admission. Well, then. He really said that, it was a thing that just really happened, someone just said they wanted to fuck him. Nireth didn’t know what to do with himself or his fluttering insides, but his cock knew that it was very happy to hear this news, tingling where it lay soft against his thigh.

Voloth only needed to take one look at his lover to glean what must have been going through his mind then. He chuckled as he drew himself up and stretched his leg to get off the bed. Nireth stared at Voloth’s body in the morning light filtering through the muslin curtains, sighing in unmasked appreciation at the triangle shape of his torso, the cinched dip of his waist, then the flare of his powerful rear and muscular thighs. Hells, he was so built, and so solid… Nireth’s eyes dropped to Voloth’s privates, just as the draconid turned away from him completely and stretched his arms out above his head.

It was a short glimpse, but Nireth thought he saw something impossible in that momentary peek. No, it must have been his imagination, or a trick of the light, there couldn’t be a set of balls hanging from his shaft, surely! However, Nireth could tell by the little look he had stolen that Voloth wasn’t a small man down there, which in retrospect perhaps he should have been grateful for the fact that he had slammed on the brakes for now. That… Bigness, was going to take some getting used to.

Shock aside, Nireth shifted until he lay on his stomach to watch Voloth stretch his limbs out, immensely curious about his nether parts now, but much to Nireth’s disappointment the obsidian dragon didn’t offer him another look. Just as Voloth was about to duck out of the curtains with his tunic in hand, Nireth detained him with a soft ‘hey!’.

Voloth glanced over his shoulder, one purple-black eyebrow rising in inquiry. “Earlier you asked me what I was dreaming about,” Nireth murmured, cushioning his chin in his hands, a lazy smile playing on his lips. His gaze dripped down Voloth’s body, licking his lover all over with his eyes, then glanced back up at Voloth’s grinning countenance. “Take a wild guess.”

Voloth’s grin sharpened and he growled deep in his throat. Nireth felt a stab of delight shooting down south of his navel, and took great pleasure in seeing the large man presumably gripping his erection to pull at it as he made his way to the whirlpool chamber. Once Voloth left him to take care of his own business Nireth flopped his face into the mattress and muffled his shrieks of excitement into it. He lay still once he was spent of volume and breath, huffing into the sweet-smelling sheets. Without softener in this world, Nireth really had to ask what Nilir used to make everything smell so fresh and inviting.

As if summoned by the young draconid’s thoughts, Nilir drew aside the curtains and peeked into the bed alcove, a slight grin lifting his lips at the corners when he spotted the quivering form of Nireth on the bed. Infected by a hysterical amount of excitement, Nilir jumped onto the mattress and shook Nireth with his hands. Nireth’s head popped up and he blinked owlishly at the other gold draconid in surprise, his expression giving way to sheepishness, followed by absolute delight.

“Tell me everything!” Nilir managed to get out around his nervous giggles.

“Oh my gosh,” Nireth replied, cupping his colouring cheeks in his hands. “Wh-where do I even begin?”

“He was gentle with you, I hope,” Nilir interrupted with a stern look, at the same time wondering what a ‘gosh’ was.

“Oh he’s so sweet to me,” Nireth assured with a flutter in his chest.

“Not too big?” Nilir inquired with a slight lascivious slant to his expression.

Nireth sucked his lips inward at that, avoiding Nilir’s gaze, which only succeeded in worrying the other draconid. “Did he force you?” Nilir asked in alarm.

“Jesus, no! No, no, uhm, we didn’t… I mean… H-he used his mouth,” Nireth murmured awkwardly.

“Oh!” Nireth answered, his concern melting as he started to chuckle. “Ohhhh, I _see_. You lucky thing.”

Nireth giggled despite the shyness, finding it surprisingly easy to talk to Nilir about it. Their conversation seemed conspiratorial in nature, but that’s what made it fun all the same. Nilir cajoled him for details, which Nireth was happy to supply, but when the subject came to Voloth’s endowment, Nilir simply tittered with nervous laughter and refused to confirm or deny Nireth’s suspicions, which just made the young dragon all the more curious about his lover’s mysterious anatomy. A mystery it had to remain for now, it seemed.

After a quick wash, and being pampered by his lover, Nireth and Voloth joined Betnerr and Nilir for breakfast on the patio. Amazingly, everyone was polite and civil to one another, there were no barbs and no cruel words flung arbitrarily, even Voloth’s wandering hands and affectionate stolen kisses were accepted with mild approval. It was as if the argument Nireth had witnessed between Voloth and Betnerr the previous day didn’t even happen, and it made him immensely glad. He liked Betnerr and Nilir, and he was beginning to really like Voloth, the thought of them disliking each other would have been upsetting.

Nireth’s spirits were high, his positivity so infectious to those around him that Nilir was reluctant to upset him with the news that he and Betnerr would be leaving soon. Thought their lease on the holiday lair had been extended, they could not stay any longer. Their duties called and they had no choice but to return to them as soon as they were packed.

It was Voloth who eventually broke the news, as delicately and smoothly as he could. “When do you expect to be back in the Glittering Terraces?” he asked of Betnerr.

Betnerr and Nilir exchanged a look between one another then looked back at a shocked Nireth. “You’re leaving?”

“Oh Nireth, dear,” Nilir murmured reaching out his hand to place it on top of Nireth’s on the table. “I wish we could stay longer, but you see this is only a rental lair, we were only supposed to be here for a few days. We’ve been away more than that by now.”

“Oh,” Nireth replied.

He tried not to sound disappointed or stung by the news, but it was hard. It turned out that he had made some gross assumptions while he was staying with Betnerr and Nilir. They didn’t live in this pretty lair full-time, they had been on holiday, and he had dropped in on them and interrupted their alone time. A creeping flush of shame spread across Nireth’s cheeks and down his neck.

“Nireth, what’s wrong?” Betnerr asked, alarmed by the sudden peachy redness of his friend’s face.

“N-no it’s uh, it’s nothing, I just…”

“He’s embarrassed,” Voloth answered for him, a mild smile tugging on his lips as he wrapped an arm around Nireth and hugged him close enough that the young draconid could bury his face in his lover’s shoulder and hide his shame. “He feels as though he has imposed upon your kindness and burdened you.”

“Nonsense!” Betnerr and Nilir declared in unison. They looked at one another, then back at Voloth and Nireth, before they both burst into laughter at their own dual indignation.

Nireth looked back up, a wan smile lifting his lips upward at the display. “You’re not upset?” he asked softly.

“Upset? Sweet mana,” Betnerr rolled his eyes skyward then looked back at Nireth with a grin. “You silly thing. I’m glad! More than glad. I’m sure Nilir feels the same. And now that we are steadfast friends, we will insist upon visiting this next week if we can manage. Not just this week, but in the future as well. You must say yes!”

“Yes!” Nireth answered only too happily with a laugh.

“I have no say in this matter?” Voloth inquired with raised brows.

“No!” all three of the other draconids answered together.

After breakfast Voloth helped Nilir and Betnerr to pack, though the affair seemed to hardly warrant any assistance. Nireth watched with rapt fascination as the couple used a magicked bag to stow their things, from crockery to garments and everything in between, until they were ready to be on their way. The couple left them some necessities which they would return for at the end of the week, and Nilir gifted Nireth several of his beautiful flowy garments and glittering sandals to wear.

The young draconid felt overwhelmed with emotions, particularly since he had no one else in this new and frightening world that he could call friend or family. Betnerr and Nilir had readily stepped into those roles, and even though they had only known one another for a short time, Nireth felt like they were friends he had had for years. Saying goodbye was tough, but he chided himself about his own intense sense of attachment, taking comfort in the knowledge that they would see one another again.

With the magicked bag slung around his neck, Betnerr waved goodbye to Voloth and Nireth on the terrace, before shifting into his dragon form. Nireth sighed at the beauty of Betnerr’s bronze scales when they caught the afternoon light of the sky-flame shining down on them, he was truly magnificent, from snout to tail-tip. Powerfully-built and muscular without seeming too bulky, his boxy snout was lined with razor sharp teeth, spines sprouted out of his shoulders in various lengths, and from the crown of his head grew two great corkscrewed horns. Thick and heavy, they were supported by a strong neck. A long coppery mane spilled down Betnerr’s head and neck, ending midway down his back.

Voloth noted his beloved’s wonderstruck reaction with a knowing smile, and leaned closer to whisper in his ear, “You think Betnerr is a pretty dragon? Wait until you see Sif-Ni-Lir.”

Nireth blinked at that, but thought it was just Voloth teasing him. Little did he know that his bonded’s claims were far from unfounded. Nilir waved at them, turned, then shifted into his dragon form and shook himself out in the light of the sky-flame. Nireth pressed fingers to his lips as he stared in awe at the small dragon standing beside his larger mate, flapping his golden wings to test the air.

It was like watching liquid gold moving, but there was no sense of garishness about the little golden dragon, rather he looked regal, elegant, and infinitely delicate. Nilir’s neck arched like that of a swan, his snout a slender arrowhead of perfect proportion with a delicate chin, a sinewy body decorated with immaculate minute scales, and a golden mane that flowed down his neck in soft waves. He was magnificent, like a jewel in the sun, and Nireth couldn’t take his eyes off him.

“Golden dragons are the most beautiful, wouldn’t you say?” Voloth murmured aloud as he caressed the edge of Nireth’s ear.

Nireth had no voice with which to answer his mate, though he agreed wholeheartedly. He watched, transfixed, as the two dragons stroked their muzzles against one another before they looked back one last time and fluted goodbye roars at them. Nireth smiled, waved his hand shyly, then sucked in a sharp breath of admiration as both dragons jumped off the terrace and glided into the air, buoyed by the warm currents of air born from the surrounding hot springs. Spectacular and beautiful, Nireth was spellbound and remained on the terrace leaning against his lover, gazing at the sky until the tiny figures of Betnerr and Nilir could no longer be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Blue flameturn** : Equivalent to between 11:00 p.m. - 1:00 a.m. Earth time.
> 
>  **Huntsbird** : Any variety of birds of prey in the Realms.
> 
>  **Hemsin** : An alcoholic beverage brewed from flowers and honey, similar to mead.
> 
>  **Fingerlength** : Approx. 8 cm (3.1 in).
> 
>  **Grey flameturn** : Equivalent to between 1:00 a.m. - 3:00 a.m. Earth time.


End file.
